


Zero-Zero

by kxssmybxttxry



Series: zero-zero [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: (((i guess?))), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Mental Institution, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Amnesia, Bottom Gerard Way, Eventual Smut, Frerard, I Don't Even Know, Kidnapping, M/M, On the Run, POV First Person, Running Away, Sad Ending, Temporary Amnesia, Top Frank Iero, Trust Issues, im not sorry, ongoing series AND work, ray toro is too nice to two idiots on the run, sorry mom, yeah these tags are gonna be weird cause theres a lot going on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:40:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28082556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kxssmybxttxry/pseuds/kxssmybxttxry
Summary: all his life, 000 had been scared of becoming what he was made to be, scared of turning nineteen. he finally made peace with dying at nineteen. but an unfamiliar face messes it all up seven days before his death-date. someone like him. someone who was deadset on keeping emotion: dangerous in a place like this. only he remembers things, things before a time that 000 can remember, things like a name, a life outside this place.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Series: zero-zero [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057310
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. quiet.

**Author's Note:**

> this is put on mature because of chapter 15 (not published yet but what will be). it's skippable if you'd like to skip it, as not much plot goes on in that chapter. other than that, enjoy! :)

the room was white. pure sterile emotionless white.

another day, another pill, another droning on of nothing. training to go out into the real world.

training to go out and kill. that's what we were, children born and raised to be free of guilt because we felt nothing.

at least, that's how it was supposed to be.

I crushed the pill into a bitter powder between my teeth, bringing a glass to my lips as I spat out the white paste into the milk, pretending to take a sip.

the room was sterile white and i was deadset on painting the walls bright red because I did feel. I felt every ounce of guilt of everything I knew I would have to do. I felt every ounce of dread of what awaited once I crashed through the threshold of my nineteenth birthday.

nineteen years, I figured, wasn't so bad. I didn't have to die with anyone's blood on my hands but my own, right?

nineteen years of keeping secrets and being tortured and slowly feeling my sanity slip away, but never to the place it was supposed to.

if anything, they just made me feel _more_ emotions.

but the pills took that away. they loved their fucking pills. their fucking pills they'd shove down our throats to make us nothing more than human puppets.

I had become an expert at not taking those pills.

as much as I dreaded what could lie past nineteen, there was comfort in knowing that I didn't have to stay to see the bloodshed. I had never found comfort in knowing that if I took the pills, I wouldn't care. at least as long as the chemicals were in my bloodstream. at least until I built up a tolerance and they'd shift to another concoction.

I always wondered what it was like for those who did take the pills. all I remember about the pills is from when I took them, which was when they physically shoved them down my throat, which was whenever I got caught not taking the pills.

I had gotten smarter since then.

the cool-toned lights bounced off the steel cafeteria tables, getting absorbed into the blank white walls. I was seven days away from nineteen and I honestly couldn't've cared less. I knew the day was coming and I was just happy I wouldn't have to ever kill.

its not like I had a reason to stick around anyway. after 001 and I got separated, I never found another reason. that is, outside of that sliver of hope that someone would come free us from here.

but, of course, no one ever did. no one probably knew that we were here. we didn't even know _if_ there were people besides _them_ and whoever they wanted us to kill in the world, outside nineteen.

there was no hope in sight, and I had made my peace with that.

that is, until _he_ came along.

I sat alone at a table, poking at a piece of boiled cabbage. it was an unwritten rule that no one would sit with one another. personal relationships were frowned upon by _them_. they created more room for uncontrolled thought, something which they were terrified of. at least, in us.

that's why they used to take my drawings away, before I got the wits to hide them better.

but he slammed his tray down on the table. it forced me, and everyone else in the room, to look up in surprise. he looked new. it must have been rotation day. they just scowled at him. the other residents looked at him blankly, as they were supposed to. I tried to give him the same blank look, but my nerves shone straight through my skin.

maybe it was the scabbed-over puncture mark on the left side of his lip, maybe it was the audacious smirk on his face, maybe it was the pure gall it took to pull off the move that he just had, but something about him just intrigued me.

it terrified me down to the bone, but what did I have left to ruin?

it's not like I had enough time to have us grow close enough where they would physically separate us. I was going to die soon enough anyway. and besides, if he didn't want to start something, why would he have done any of this? the piercing, the noise, the expression.

I didn't ask him to leave. I probably should have, but I motioned for him to sit, not daring to speak a word in the silence of the cafeteria.

even he didn't have the gall to break it with so much as a wrong breath.

we ate in silence. or more poked at the food in silence. he ate around the boiled chicken and I just poked at the food. I _hated_ the taste of food, and it wasn't like I was going to starve to death this time around.

 _they_ wouldn't stop me anyway. its not like they cared. I wasn't a risk yet.

the buzzer rang, telling us meal three had ended and we were to return to our rooms. we got up to clear our trays, and over the scratching of dishes, he whispered words that would begin everything.

"lights-off buzzer. meet me at the bathroom."

and then he scampered off so quick, like nothing had happened. I could've almost convinced myself I'd imagined it. _almost_.

seven days before I would die, the endless cycle was shattering.


	2. dreams of glass

I went.

my lifespan was coming to a close and I was feeling reckless enough to actually _be_ reckless.

I went and I took my lessons notebook and a pencil I had stolen from the study room. I went with a heart beating so fast that I was overly grateful that they had given up on their heart-monitoring devices, which residents easily figured out how to trick. tricks I had never learned because I was an overly-emotional outcast. overly-emotional being any type of emotional, of course.

the light-off buzzer rang through the vacant halls as the lights shut down for the night. I hid the pencil and a ripped-out piece of paper in the waistband on my nightclothes, and left my room. I walked down the hall cautiously, careful not to raise suspicion but careful not to shift in a way which would let the paper and pencil slip from the pocketless pants.

which were made pocketless after countless instances of people hiding their pills in pockets.

I, being one of those people. but I was smarter at this point. I chewed the pill and pretended to wash it down with milk, when I really just spit it back into the milk. and I never took another sip of the milk, but _they_ didn't seem to care. they gave us supplements for things like calcium, so in the end it didn't really matter.

a resident stationed in the hall made note of me passing by.

I pushed open the heavy steel door to the bathroom, where there were a few people brushing their teeth. another resident sat in the corner, dozing off from time to time. it was probably getting late, but we rarely got to see the sun down in the institution. 

I sat in a vacant stall, next to the only occupied stall, hoping that it was occupied by whoever promised to meet me here.

I knocked quietly when i heard the sound to the faucet. I waited anxiously for a knock to return, scared that this person would _not_ be the person I met and would now _know_ that I was trying to meet up with someone.

and what if _they_ found out?

I'd be put on 24/7 surveillance in a solitary room. I didn't want to miss my chance to die before I had to kill. 

I could feel the pure anxiety flood my veins and almost reach my fingertips just before I heard a returning knock, just before the faucet outside stopped.

"hi." I wrote, hoping he'd have something more to say than me. I passed the paper and pencil in the crack between the bathroom wall and the stall wall.

"hi." he wrote, "you're hot. who are you?"

"what do you mean?" i wrote, "i'm 000."

"it means you're attractive, dummy. i'm frank."

I stared at the paper. frank? frank wasn't a number. what did that mean? and 'frank' thought i was attractive?

sure, relationships weren't an all-too-rare sight in the facility. but they were always short-lived and always between opposite genders. only those who were above nineteen were let to have relationships which didn't end in near-immediate separation.

and I was never a person anyone dared to have a relationship with in the first place.

"what do you mean, you're frank? you're a resident, right?"

I could feel my pulse getting quicker by the second. this guy was weird. and not weird like I was, he was so outright about it. and somehow he seemed to be barely on the side of not-weird enough to disappear at _their_ hands.

the crumpled paper was passed back toward me through the little passage.

"yes. but a number's not a name. not really. don't you remember anything?"

my heart sank. there was something about it, it felt like deja vu, but only an entire lifetime. it was a feeling I had pushed off my mind's ledge a long time ago, but here this guy was, dragging it right back up. there was something there beyond the white walls of the facility, a time before ten years old that was long forgotten that I liked to think had just faded, but no. I knew it wasn't the case and it tore me apart. but this person, this 'frank', remembered?

"what do you remember?" i asked.

"I remember everything, or a lot."

"how? I can't remember before ten. eleven and twelve are starting to fade and those are my memories with my brother. kind of sad, isn't it?"

"what happened to your brother?"

"we talked too much. they didn't like it, so they separated us. and you still didn't answer my question."

"I don't know how. I just do. maybe they fucked up or something. sorry about your brother, if I see him I'll say hello. I get transferred a lot."

"thanks. he's 001. and tell him that I wasn't a killer. please."

"oh. okay, I will. how old are you?" 

"eighteen. what about you?"

"seventeen. how many days do you have left?"

"six after today. and good luck to you and whatever you plan to do past nineteen." I replied. I had become so nonchalant about my impending death that I genuinely didn't care. I would take any sure-fire way to get out of getting blood on my hands.

"thanks. and six? that's not long. how do you plan on getting out? can I come with? iIve been trying to figure out a plan to get outta here for the past seven years."

"you don't want to come with, I promise."

"believe me I want to get the fuck out of here. i remember the world outside and I miss it so much. I miss my family and music and comic books and television and food and dogs and everything."

"you miss food? and what family? and what even are comic books and music? and I'm not getting out of here. I'm just not going to kill."

I heard a quiet sigh from the stall next to mine after I passed him the crumpled paper.

"walk with me down the hall."

I hesitated for a minute. but I knew that there was no reason to not. it was the end of my world, after all. why not go crazy.

"okay." I wrote, and left with him. lightheaded from the degree of adrenaline in my veins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should mention that these chapters were written and edited probably a year ago now. Later chapters (5 and beyond) are ones I'm still editing, so you'll probably notice a shift in writing style. Other than that, thanks for reading this far :) <3\. I should also mention that this has two ways to read into the storylines, at least this installment does (the sequel may be different, I haven't made up my mind on it yet).


	3. i'm your zero

we walked a few feet apart from one another in a strained silence, tiptoeing in stocking feet, trying not to raise any red flags. the only sound was the quiet snore of a night watchmannapping on the job, daring us to just make a run for it, because maybe he wouldn't notice. 

but _they_ were always watching. the blinking light on the security camera shone off the wall, intermittently lighting up the dark blue hue of the hall in an eerie red. 

I quietly followed him around a rounded the bend of the hall. I could hear each and every footstep I took, traveling through my skeleton and right into my eardrum, but my pulse barely increased, even without the pills. I knew I was much quieter than my brain was convincing me of, which calmed me slightly, but I could still feel my heart straining to not act on impulse to race.

as soon as we passed the first door around the bend, he pressed the illuminated blue button on its plastic light grey frame. the door slid opened with a faint whoosh, and without warning, he pulled me into the room. 

the abruptness, the event which I hadn't measured as a possibility, gave my heart no time to think at it began to race for the first time in a long time. the air of my lungs remained in the place from which he had pulled me, leaving me silently gasping to reclaim my breath as he pressed another button and the door closed behind us.

"you've just signed my death sentence." i said with an invisible laugh, being hushed as I could manage while I was still trying to catch my breath. 

" _they_ signed that for us long ago." he said with a smirk which displayed the scar beneath his lip. "besides, I'm in the blind spot. don't worry."

his eyes sparkled in a way that felt reminiscent of things I'd long forgotten, like fiery stars in a night sky which I had never been lucky enough to see in person, or at least remember seeing. like they held beneath a thin film glimpses of hope and pure impulsivity, things which were a rare sight around here. 

and on the few occasion I _had_ seen them, it was usually in the new residents. or sometimes someone older, but those ones always ended up disappearing. i had never seen it in someone who had lasted as long as frank had.

"what, do you think _I'm_ hot?" he asked, with another smirk, through this one wasn't sarcastic.

I felt a heat creep across my cheeks, reaching up to the tips of my ears. I didn't know how to answer. I supposed he was a pretty attractive person, probably the mostattractive person I had ever met, radiating of pure defiance in a strange angelicism which was equally as devilish. 

"what?" I asked, not knowing how or even if I should answer the question, especially because I didn't know the answer myself.

"you were staring." he said with a small smile. it was soft, remaining on his face unlike the quick, sharp smirks, but it was still befitting of him.

"oh." i said. I hadn't noticed my staring and silently cursed my slip-up. I felt the heat spread from my face to the back of my neck as I looked down in embarrassment, trying to not display my blunder. 

"you're funny." he said, "I'm surprised you haven't gotten kicked out or whatever yet. you're like, the opposite of who they've made you to be, or tried to."

it was true. if _they_ had caught me blushing for any reason other than a burn or a fever, I'd be off to the solitary white rooms, maybe even getting intervenous drugs so they made _sure_ I was taking their damned pills.

"what, are you so sad that I didn't end up as some mindless puppet of the institution?" I joked, trying to distract myself from my climbing heartrate. "besides, you're not exactly _their_ daydream either."

"no, I like you _because_ you're the opposite." he said, inching closer to my face.

tucking a runaway lock of hair behind my ear as he pinned butterflies to the line of my stomach. the emotion was something I wanted to capture in a jar to remember forever. the terror of being found out heightening everything to the point my heart was threatening to explode.

"and yeah," he laughed, smiling in that unforgettably unforgiving manner, "I get transferred a lot. I cause problems, it's fun. or as much fun as you _can_ have in here." 

I wondered for a second how he managed to still be alive in the hands of _them_ , but the heat of his breath was grazing my face in the cool of the night, shifting my attention away from my speculations. his wide, starry, unforgettable eyes were staring right into mine, starless as the steel night sky of this killing jar, piercing right through them and planting his grasp right into my brain. his smirk fell to a quiet grin upon his bright pink lips, the shadow of his lower lip falling upon the puncture scab, hiding it like a secret rebellion. everything hiding and waiting like fuel, waiting to start, daring me to burn everything down.

and something which I had never felt before was telling me just to do that. it was terrifying and intoxicating and I never wanted to let go of it.

blood flooded my eardrums and I could hear nothing but my heartbeat. his face close enough that I could feel each tiny breath on the dew of sweat forming on my upper lip. before I could doubt myself, before I could even think about what I was about to do, I crashed our faces together into the most unsatisfying kiss. our teeth and noses crashed together, lips barely moving against, so starved and desperate for anything, yet left purely clueless by this cold place.

he pulled me in again, tangling his fingers in the locks of my stress-knotted hair, fixing what I had so hastily messed up. he moved against my lips with in sweet deliberate motions until I finally gathered the gall to try again, and push back into the kiss until we were starved for air.

"fuck." he said, like it was a most interesting observation.

the unfamiliar word, though it felt distantly known, crawled through my ears and down each and every nerve in a way which implied its meaning. his face was flushed, his eyes full of another emotion which captivated the room in a way I had never seen nor felt before, a photograph which I knew would remain as a etched in my mind forever. 

"run away with me." he said, his voice taking on a sappier tone as our shaky hands delicately intertwined in the quiet of the night.

before I could enjoy even the idea, reality came crashing back in. hot saltwater filled my eyes to the brim until they spilled out and I crumpled back to the silent flurry of emotion. the guilt, paired with a gram of dread, shot through my veins as I remembered: I had seven days left, and here i was, ready to ruin this "frank"'s life.

and if we carried on the way we had been so far, for seven days, I would have to live with that guilt. and after that frank would be thoroughly fucked-up by the false hope I would have given him. or even if I told him the truth, the real honest truth, my death certainly wouldn't come as a good thing in his eyes.

it should've been enough to stop me, _because_ I felt things, I _felt_ an overwhelming amount of dreadful imaginary empathy. I should've turned away because I _knew_ that it was the right thing to do, but he made me feel so many things, and every selfish neuron in my brain was overwhelming my morals.

he held me in his arms as I silently cried, the tears drying against the warmth of his neck. I think he may have known what I was thinking, at least to some degree. the way he held me said he knew this wasn't his fault, but he seemed to think it wasn't mine either.

still, I didn't want to leave him, I knew that much. I didn't and I feared that that made me just like _them_ , not caring whose lives were ruined in the course of getting what they wanted. 

but I just couldn't bring myself to leave.


	4. live forever (if you've got the time)

I had always dreamed of running away from this place, but I had never actually considered doing it. because this place was filled with knowns. this place had rules, and I knew exactly what the reaction would be if I were to bend them. I knew how to sneak around and how to live on the edge of happy. 

or at least whatever morsel I could get. it was enough to get me this far, and I really didn't want to mess it all up.

"run away with me", he repeated with more urgency. looking into my eyes like his castle of hopes was crumbling right before his eyes. it killed me inside, but I had everything set out already.

"I can't." I said, holding my breath for an extended second. like it'd make it matter less. but still, I had to say it, "I just can't."

the brightness in his eyes dulled as a small part of each of us died. 

we both wanted to run. difference was, I knew it had to be that way. 

leaving was too dangerous. leaving held a world of unknowns. for all I knew, trying to leave would lead to a fate worse than death. 

I couldn't risk losing the safety-blanket of death.

he sighed and sat down on his bed. pulling a small metal rectangle out from under his mattress cover. it was unfamiliar and drenched my brain in pure curiosity. such a thing was rare here, but frank seemed to be surrounded in curiosities. 

this one was silver and fit in the palm of his hands, with a tiny screen. a black wire was plugged into it, split like a forked tongue somewhere near its halfway point, plastic nodules attached to each of the forked ends.

he looked down at the screen as he talked. and still I couldn't really see anything that was on the screen. just a little haze of light against his face and dancing like lightbulbs in his eyes.

it was so curious. 

but still, I didn't ask. a sadness held my tongue and told me not to speak. and I knew to listen.

"there's a whole world out there. a whole world that's much more beautiful than this stale place. full of things you'll never get to experience if you don't get out of here alive.", he said. 

he still didn't look at me. like he was going to cry, except there wasn't a singular tear in his eyes.

but there were in mine. the same strange sadness that had held my tongue now choked me. 

i just shook my head and struggled out an "i'm sorry".

"just-" he began. 

he chewed on the corner of his lower lip, like he was trying to put a hole through it with his canines. 

"don't be sorry, you don't need to, y'know? it's _their_ fuckin' fault. just promise, you'll stick around 'til you need to go? I swear I'll make it worth it. I can tell you things about the world, even show you a few." he said, gesturing with that weird device.

and he said it all, like it really meant something else. something I couldn't discern. but I wanted it to remain a surprise, so I didn't ask. I quite liked the thrill, subtle as it was. it felt potent.

"okay. I promise." I said. 

it was the closest I could get to running away with him. without putting myself in that sort of danger.

he looked down again at the weird box and put one of the nodules into his ear.

"what is that?" I asked, letting the sadness melt away and the curiosity take hold.

"music." he said, grinning like a madman.

"what's music?" I asked. it was distantly familiar. probably something on our list of things to learn about in the upcoming months, something I'd never learn about in that capacity.

"fuckin art, babe." 

he said it in a way that made the breath in my lungs catch in my throat on its way out. it was a pert of the thrill, I figured. I didn't question it, just reveled in it. let it feed my curious bonfire.

"like a drawing? why did you put it in your ears? and how am I a _baby_?" I asked.

I knew I was pelting him with questions, but he was really throwing me for a loop. 

"you're not a baby, i called you babe. it's-" he paused, turning all pinkish. "it's a term of endearment or whatever. and music's like a drawing, I guess. but with words and notes and shit, art that you can hear."

"and shit?"

"and shit." he repeated. his slight pink undertone was beginning to fizzle out already. "y'know I could describe music all day, but seeing as you've got barely seven left, you could actually experience it instead." 

he pointed a one of the nodules out at me. I sat next to him on the crisp white bedsheets and placed the weird nodule in my ear. at first all I heard was silence, and I was confused. this wasn't art, it was a blank sheet of paper.

but after frank pressed a few buttons, sound came blasting into my ear. fuckin' music.

it was wonderful. the words strung together beautifully in a way that didn't make such sense, but made all the more sense because of it. the sounds made me heart pound with anticipation and I wanted to jump around with a sort of energy I had never experienced. 

years of excitement and sorrow and nerves and just everything condensed into mere seconds. it was emotion, heightened and captured in a piece of art. it filled me with absolute delight.

I felt like exploding, but I didn't want to make any noise in the quiet night. so I just swayed my head around with a silent level of ferocity. 

he giggled and just looked at me with those eyes. like they forgot that I was on borrowed time. like they forgot about the world around us for now as music washed it away. 

"that song was called x.y.u." he said, once it was over. another thing, a song, a piece of art, of music.

"that was, great. I really really liked it." I said, not able to find the words to put to it. I knew they existed, but I wasn't well versed in words of emotion. given we weren't really supposed to have any. not according to the institution.

"it felt like when I draw sometimes, only it made me want to fuckin' jump around." I whispered excitedly. it was the best way to put it I could find, at least in that moment.

"fuckin'" he said, amused by my use of the word. "and you draw? isn't that banned or whatever by _them_?"

"isn't _music_ banned by _them?_ " I retorted, worries temporarily drained away by that audacity-inducing music.

"sure it is.", he said, as if it were nothing. "I just didn't take you for the type to break rules in that sorta way. considering how _they_ make sure they can control just about every fuckin' aspect of our lives here."

"well, guess I'm more than you bargained for." I said, still intoxicated from that song, "lucky for you."

"yes, lucky for me."

"but not lucky enough." I said, reality slowly snaking its way back in, "I've got to sleep. can't be half-asleep on my last week, right?"

"zombie's a good word for that, half-asleep." he threw his head back dramatically and sighed. "damn, I bet you'd love monster movies. and we're both old enough to go watch them and all without getting kicked out of the theater."

he looked at me with a starry haze glazed over his eyes, but still he quietly laughed. "we could be cliches, hold hands and quietly kiss under the dark guise of the theater."

I wished it didn't sound so fucking lovely. because it did sound like the best thing imaginable. and I knew it could never happen.

"that sounds fun and all, but it's not real life. not here. not for me. maybe for you, though. you seem to have your ways." I said, a thin cold sheet of ice preserving my words.

"you, zero, are one mysterious motherfucker." he said, looking at me with those daring eyes. 

daring me to stay and let chaos ensue. if I was a mysterious motherfucker, he was a dangerous one. he was giving me fucking hope.

"I don't know if that's a compliment or an insult," I said, shoving off the bed to leave, "but thanks. and you, and goodnight."

"wait," he said, lightly holding onto my arm. "it's your birthday soon, but seeing as you're not gonna be here then, I'm gonna give you your present today."

"present?" i asked, the weight of my brows becoming more and more apparent on my forehead as my confusion increased.

"yeah. a book. not a lesson book, but a book that's like a little world of its own." he said, digging around in his bag, not yet unpacked from the move.

"huh. more art." i said. though it was so quiet i doubted at first if he could even here me.

but this place was so silent you could hear each crinkle in the bedsheets. so of course he did.

"yeah." he said, "there's a shit ton of art out there in the world, more than drawings and music and books." 

he handed me an orange tattered book with a cover black-and-white photograph of oddly dressed people. not institution clothes. I quite liked them.

it was the size of the language books, but it smelled like nothing I had ever smelled before. close to the smell of my pyjamas when I had neglected to have them washed for a while, but even that wasn't all that accurate. 

the smell was musty. comforting as sleep, on those occasions sleep didn't come with dreamlessness or nightmares.

"thanks." I said, giving him a quick embrace. "but I really should sleep. I don't know how far away wake-time is."

"yeah." he said. "I would've gotten a little cake or something if I could've. I'll try and find one, though. I'll see you tomorrow, though. I can visit your room tomorrow night, through the vents, if you'd like."

"sure." I said, slipping the book in the waistband of my pyjama pants, hiding my grin as I turned to leave. "good-night, frank."

"good night, whoever you are." he whispered in a final exchange of the night. 

I don't think he meant for me to hear it, but you really could hear everything in the quiet of the room.

I just let the words linger. and I cautiously made my way out of the room, careful to avoid _their_ gaze. back to the arms of sleep in the loneliness of my room. 

I closed my door behind me and let out a baited breath, not being able to comprehend the stunt that I had just pulled off. 

I crawled over to my bed and flipped through my drawings, reveling in the residue of rebellion and new discovery. the music still ringing through my ears and capillaries, daring me to plaster the walls in my paper armor. 

I put the pictures away before I could gather the stupid courage to do just that, but couldn't let go of the residual rebellion. I didn't want it to leave me either.

I curled under my covers and sighed, something aching alongside the need for rebellion that I couldn't quite place a finger on. it compelled me to peer at the book, into the book and begin anew.

I pulled it out from under my clothes as the darkness continued its silent lullaby.

'Trainspotting' I caught, as my eyelids drew closer together like plastered curtains. 

I hugged the book to my chest. under the comforting scent of the old book was the scent of frank. 

it made my bones ache with the want to stay and hope for a new life. knowing that I'd never be able to live that dream of a life I was becoming so intoxicated by: it made me loathe it all the more. 

and I wished to snuff the loathe and just live out my last days happy, I was still happy to feel. and I knew, deep down, that the two were intertwined.

just like my insides, all twisting and turning and knotting under the shield of the book, as I reveled in the memories. making my stomach sick in the sweetest way possible.


	5. collision

I awoke to the sound of the alarms blaring. the room blinded my eyes as I forced them open, dreary with the often-forgotten sensation of morning-sleepyness. the book jabbed in the creases of my arms, reminding me of what had happened yesterday. 

my stomach lurched with fear and anticipation and that ever-confusing emotion. 

I hid the book in the drawer of old school papers before _they_ had the chance to burst into the room. which they did, to make sure I was awake and making my bed. 

there was some comfort in knowing they would do this just six more times. and the last, revealing a corpse. 

it felt nice to know: I knew that, while _they_ didn't. 

it was more comforting when I _didn't_ think about the life I wasn't going to live.

that one frank had talked about. free from this place. free from certain futures and set death-dates and corpses all piled up.

but my brain, the fickle thing, wouldn't let me go without a loud yelp of regret.

the day went as any other, dull and lifeless. only there was a little bit of new and interesting emotions mixed in: a healthy dose of guilt twisted with longing. in some capacity, I wanted to feel the dull drill of another empty day.

running away was becoming more compelling my the minute, but I knew it would never outweigh my fears. if I got caught, I knew that _they_ would keep me under watch until my nineteenth birthday. 

and then _they_ would send me out to kill. I couldn't fucking do that.

maybe they'd even hold frank's life over my head, to force me to do it.

I couldn't risk that.

not for frank, not for me. not for whoever the poor fellow whose life would end.

I just kept my head down. I had to remember why I was dying. 

it would keep me grounded. keep my thoughts sane.

still, I couldn't resist to live a little before my end. frank and I sneaked occasional glances, when we spotted each other. accidental, yes. at least, in part. but his pointed face in a hidden cherubic grin. 

another reminder that I couldn't get swept up.

I couldn't let him die because I didn't want to become a killer. I couldn't make a run for it.

he would start anew again after I was gone. I knew it.

you could tell, even just by looking at him. he was just resilient like that.

after third-meal it was lights-down, and I returned to my room. 

where I sat on the bed, then paced, then sat again (this time in my chair), waiting for frank. 

waiting for the guilt to subside. like moving around in circles would really help quell the illness. 

it boiled in my stomach, as I realized all over again just what I was doing. offering frank attachment, when I knew I was a goner. _he_ knew I was a goner. 

but seven days isn't long enough to get too invested, right? I hoped that much.

if I just repeated that in my head, a chorus of fucking rationalizations, maybe the guilt would subside.

it did, on some surface level, but I still had to sit down and draw away some more of the nerves. just to stop my shaky heart.

it all drained out into the graphite, guilt dousing the paper like ink. 

it, really, had always been prevalent in my drawings. guilt and fantastical creatures from my mind. 

I suppose this one was different though, because it was more personal. it was uglier and messier and I couldn't tell you why, but as I grabbed the pencil off the page and I looked over it, it was one of my favorites. 

done in a matter of minutes, a matter of frenzy, different than most of the other drawings.

I hadn't drawn for a few days ago, so it hadn't even crossed my mind, but I didn't know what would happen to my drawings. where would they go when I was gone? 

maybe I'd give them all to frank. in some ways it felt a little too personal, a little too attaching. I still didn't want frank to feel any guilt or anguish or anything really other than some sort of understanding in my death.

but maybe he could find my brother, give them to him when they cross paths. they had to, eventually. frank would no doubt stir up trouble again, especially without me or anyone ready to sneak around. he'd get moved yet again. eventually to 001's hall.

I didn't even know what my brother looked like. I missed him, I always did, but I didn't always wonder.

but now I wondered what my brother looked like. frank seemed to have that weird sort of hopeful effect on me. I wondered if he was even alive anymore. with what little I had been taught from the facility, I did know that a lot could change in seven years.

but he and I, we seemed to be survivors. 

in our own rights.

a quiet tapping of keratin on metal coming from the vents interrupted my thoughts. I looked up to see the side of frank's head through the steel slats.

"hey, you're not getting dressed or anything right?" he asked, his hushed voice not even echoing through the vents as anything more than wind.

"no, you can come on down." I said, probably louder than him. but everything just felt so very loud in my head, like it was its own echo chamber.

he hopped down from the vent, landing so gracefully quiet that I doubted anyone outside of my room could've heard it. 

"woah, that's rad! spooky as hell, but rad." he said, getting all wide-eyed over the sketch I'd just done. 

I hid it away quickly. I hadn't meant for him to see the guilt-ridden thing. not that he would've known.

and still a halfway-pleasant warmth crept under the skin of my cheeks. uncomfortable, but I kind of liked it. it felt distantly familiar, though whatever faded memory of it tasted bitter. not like this.

"thanks." I said, fiddling with the overgrown strands of hair that always seemed to fall across my face.

"what is it?" he asked, as if I knew. 

I just shrugged and shook my head, and offered him a seat on the bed. which he took up, and I joined next to him soon after.

"you're funny, zero." he said with a gentle tone of amusement, "you're like this giant mysterious personality with all these thoughts and ideas and no words to put to it." 

he leaned his head against my shoulder. he smelled like sleep, which matched his attire and the hour. I probably did too. I got the notion, by some means, that he hadn't gotten much sleep last night either. 

but it didn't bother me. his hair was soft against my skin, his face a different sort of warm soft but even nicer. it brought me back to the night before, when we had kissed in the dark of his room.

I could almost taste the silent sweet strangeness of that moment.

"geez, I wish I knew what that wonderful imagination held." he muttered into the air before us. 

I laughed in the dead of the night. maybe a little too loud, but no one came running, and it was all drowned out by the pounding of my heart. 

the knots only folded over and over in their churning glory. chanting into my ear over and over again to hold his face between my hands and kiss him again.

"what's up?" he asked, looking a little concerned. "y' seem nervous. not, like, normal nervous, but different nervous. you okay?"

I wanted to tell him. I wanted my guts to spill and paint the room. I wanted to tell him that I wanted to stick around with him and make a break for it if we could. 

but I remembered to know, that doing such a thing would be far too dangerous. it would give frank destructive hope. 

he needed a better hope, something better than me. but my mind was spinning circles over again and again so I shut it off.

I gave in, without spilling.

I didn't answer. I just smirked and pulled his face closer to mine, until the air between us suffocated in a soft kiss. 

a sweet distraction, one which frank had no qualms about. he just smiled against my lips and pressed harder. I lightly grazed the pillow of his bottom lip with the slight of my teeth, and the slight of my tongue, as I pulled away for a quick breath. 

it elicited something of a desperate sigh to fall involuntarily between his lips and onto mine. I found it strange, but I found it addictive.

and the knots in my stomach turned lower and lower. my stomach acid simmering in a way that gave me a strange degree of confidence. 

we crashed together again. this time, I made the kisses deliberately sloppier. ran my tongue against his lip, against his tongue, as he did just the same. the patterns of his breath getting imprinted in my memories for what remained of forever. 

I let all my thoughts slip away into the momentary bliss. where all nerves were good nerves. never cauterizing fear. 

I fell against the mattress, a mix of accidental stumble and deliberate move. I took him with me, as he followed my face, moving in tandem.

his weight pressed me ever-so-slightly down into the mattress. I caught a glimpse of something in a quick break for air. 

his eyes all brimming with something I had never seen before. something that I wanted to take for myself. to infect the marrow of my bones until, I didn't know. 

but I didn't care to think. it made my abdomen burned with an alien excitement. 

at that moment, all I could compare it to was drinking cold water after brushing my teeth. only far better and far more captivating.

he shifted a bit, so that his legs weren't so awkwardly stretched like a spider around my frame. moved to that his knees sat on the mattress, one to the left of my hip and one in the gap between my legs.

he kneeled in, to reach my face, to kiss me again. but in doing so, he lowered one leg between mine. pressing into my crotch in a burn that felt great instead of painful, eliciting a soft involuntary noise to spew from my mouth. 

similar to the one frank had made when I grazed his lip with the tip of my teeth. I found it somewhat curious, though I wasn't thinking enough to dwell on it.

"sorry, i didn't mean to-" he began, but I cut him off.

"mm, more," I managed to stumble out past my lips tucked within the incoherence.

and pulled him back in for another kiss, pulling him back to ease the ache and turn it into pure pleasure. and this time he was more deliberate, more movement, more, I couldn't quite know. I just knew it made another louder sound tumble from my lips. but still I knew no one would hear it, getting caught between us.

but he could hear it, and I could hear it. 

"geez, that's hot, zero." he mumbled, as we briefly broke for air. 

when we collided again, I pushed up against his leg, turning up the sensation to a higher volume again. it was addictive, so addictive, and I didn't know to what end other than to continue.

he seemed to be more familiar with the feeling, as each time left me aching for more and more while still feeling like I was getting more and more. 

leaving me with less and less air in my lungs until something sucked all the oxygen out of my lungs in a scream so urgent it choked my lungs out. fell silent in the dead of the night, as frank captured the last moments between our lips.

but the feeling faded all to quick. left me sticky and uncomfortable and apologizing as the guilt from whatever just happened. now that i had time to think again.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." i whispered through a choked tongue.

I couldn't even really look at him, scared of what I'd find. scared of what he'd find, maybe. I just couldn't. I didn't know why, but I just felt so guilty about the whole thing.

I buried myself deep under the blankets like if I pretended hard enough, I could wake up. this could be a dream, a wonderful dream, without consequence or excess guilt.

"no. zero. don't, please." he said, "there's nothing to be sorry for." 

he halfway embraced me, molding himself to the side of my blanket-cocoon, draping his arm over the cover. it felt quite comforting, to know he was there. he still didn't dare to pull back the blanket. he knew I'd do that in time.

but for that moment, we just lie there. he must've known, some of the guilt had dissolved. his breath evened out, no longer panicked or fucked from the making out. his body was warm and smelled soft and felt so safe. a good, really truly good sort of safe. 

"do you-" i began, whispering more to the wall really, but he still heard me. "should I do the same to you?" 

"'m alright," he said all soft and even his whispers muffled. "I'll take care of it myself."

"yourself?" i asked.

"yeah, in all your time here you've never-" he started, but he paused. not only his words, but his breath too for a while. 

"never what?"

"never mind." he said, and i could swear the was a slightest hint of a giggle. but it didn't actually pass his lips, just lightened the words like helium.

I smiled a small smile, but still I didn't leave. I wished he'd been in the blanket cocoon with me, but the guilt had never left completely. it had been replaced with a different sort. the same sort that had been haunting me for the past day.

it was just little enough to not tell him to turn and run. even though the urge to do so bit at the back of my throat, threatening to latch on long enough to jump from its cage. but I didn't let it.

instead I opted to slowly work up the courage to pull back the covers. 

I did want to hold him close. to melt into his optimistic self, and give me another temporary escape from this place. 

we could run away here, for a fraction of the night. no threats looming over our heads, no threats of being dragged back to this place. 

I pulled back the covers, and captured him under the warmth of the blanket. it didn't usually feel so warm, but he'd warmed up the old thing by lying on it. the sheets were always cold, though. nothing could change that.

but it was alright, because I had him here. and we were alright. maybe we wouldn't be in a few hours, but for now everything was absolutely wonderful.

it should've felt strange to have the warmth of another person draped around me, the scent and breath and movements of another person, but it felt anything but strange. even though it had been probably six years since i had even hugged another human being, this felt so normal.

everything just fit, fell into place in the most satisfying way. 

until I thought about it more, but my eyes had lulled me to sleep before they'd caught up to me with any toxic enough dose to worry me. halfway to sleep, where I wasn't thinking about much, just floating with my eyes shut and hazy and warm.

it seemed to be an effect of frank's presence, though. because when he got up, I shot right back into the real world.

"tomorrow, yeah?" he said.

"tomorrow." i agreed, flipping around to face him, hoping he wouldn't notice the dread on my face. "I'll meet you in your room right after third meal."

"that's pretty early, what if they come looking for you and no one's there?"

I found it kind of funny he was so worried. he rarely got worried like that. I even cracked a smile, despite my declining mood.

"then I'm in the bathroom." I said, feigning the sort of nerve frank possessed so naturally, "I just, I've got to enjoy whatever time I can get. and we both know I'm running out quickly.

"then run away with me?" he offered.

but I shook my head, and he nodded knowingly. he knew the response he was going to get and he it knew well, for my mind was a stubborn one. for better or for worse. 

"okay. I have another few books to lend you. I think you'll like them. I'll leave 'em in your vent, so you can take 'em in the morning" he said, as he turned to leave. 

"goodnight, g. and running away's always on the table if you change your mind." he said, with with that unforgettable smirk of his.

"'g?'" I asked.

"it's how you sign your pictures. it's probably muscle memory or whatever." he said as he covered the vent once again.

because he could never leave things off fully finished. it was a fun little piece of him while we were to last, but beyond that, I didn't want to die not knowing the ending. I just hoped he wouldn't do that at our last meeting. 

though, I couldn't be sure. I could never really be sure about those sorts of things with him.

"huh." I said, berating myself internally for never noticing that.

I could always see connections everywhere, kept me busy enough to not lose my mind here. but why not my own fucking name? or at least a letter.

not that it mattered, because I should've known. because my mind wasn't under _their_ control. it was so simple, so plain-view. 

it was something to be called by, more than a fucking number, and it was right in front of my fucking face. etched in pencil over and over and over again over seven years 'xoxo g'. and in the matter of hours, frank had it figured out, the fucker.

I could've kissed him, I was so happy. so elated even though I was still so filled with dread. I could've kissed him in the cold blue glow, if he were here. but he wasn't; of course he wasn't. 

but still I celebrated the revelation. 

inside the cover of 'trainspotting', i wrote again 'xoxo g'. this time, knowing what it meant.

I signed it before opening to the first chapter, willing it to transport me from the facility to another world. one not as beautiful as the temporary getaway, but just as alluring. 

and most importantly, one that wasn't here.


	6. all dreams lost at sea

that night, I tossed and turned for what felt like forever. a proper forever, too. not just a lifespan. especially not a lifespan of someone down here. the night really did feel endless. for better or for worse.

I finished the entirety of trainspotting. it left me up with a lot of questions, wondering what exactly what the outer world really was. it didn't sound all that pretty, in fact it sounded pretty fucking gritty, but it sounded glamorous next to the institution. 

it sounded fucking interesting. and in the institution, a lack of boredom was heaven. 

if you weren't already placated and rendered mindless by _their_ drugs. 

but it seemed, the outer world had a different sort of drugs. they didn't sound pretty, but they sounded different. different than here, different than boredom and complacency.

it made me toss and turn and think all night about running away. I wanted to. 

_I wanted to._

didn't mean I could, though. and I knew that well enough to keep me tied up here.

the crisp sheets, where frank and I had, well, I don't quite know. they crinkled with every disruption, the brash noises scratching against my eardrums. killing my head.

they usually didn't, but the more I thought about leaving, the more intrusive the noise got.

my eyes, my limbs, my everything was so fucking tired. but my mind couldn't shut the fuck up. it couldn't stop listening and it couldn't stop thinking.

it seemed, the more tired I got, the louder my head got.

it felt like forever, an endless tunnel of growing more an more tired. of driving myself further and further into insanity, under the chase after sanity. until I just couldn't take it. 

that night, I broke my own code. probably one of my only rules I had created for myself other than die before nineteen. 

that night, I hoisted myself off the creaky mattress with its noisy sheets. walked over to the drawer. unpacked the layer of books, papers, pens, pencils, until the small orange bottle. where I kept the only pills they'd entrusted us with, in small intervals. seven per week, really nothing you could do much with.

but I never, never took them. except that night.

for the first time since the age of thirteen, since the age I'd arrived here with 001, I took one of _their_ pills. 

it tasted just as I remembered. bitter, metallic. like blood mixed with baking soda. but I swallowed it down whole, not giving it the chance to sit too long in my mouth and dissolve, and leave an even worse taste.

I hoped it would rid itself from my veins by morning time, but I knew that there were no promises.

no promises other than no escape in this place. 

but I was sick and I was tired of my head getting the better of me. I just wanted to fucking sleep.

so I lay down back under the covers. they felt quieter now. even the water I'd taken just after, sloshing around in my stomach, bothered me little.

I closed my eyes and faded away into a dreamless, starless slumber.

I woke to a dulled world. it drilled its monotonous blare into my ears. 

it must've been morning, the morning bell. or whatever the hell it was called. 

I just knew this place felt duller that I could ever remember it being. 

even when I had been naive enough to take _their_ pills, all those years ago, the world had seemed brighter than it felt now. 

maybe it was because 001 wasn't here with me anymore. maybe it was the looming gloom of my close approaching date with death. maybe it was the knowing: that I'd created the stupid situation where someone actually _cared_ whether I did or didn't die _._

not that _they_ didn't care whatsoever. but to them it was about a lost resource. to frank, it truly mattered. 

but I still flipped around, holding the pillow over my ears, to kill the drilling noise. waiting until it had gone. I hadn't remembered it being this terrible.

maybe memory just was like that; filtering out the dull grays of the world. it had just been my age and the passage of time that had changed. the world was probably a constant.

but still it was, above all, _their_ pills. that changed it all.

and while the sleepy haze dissipated a few minutes after I woke, the pills' effect did not. the sleepy haze washed away as I rubbed my eyes for the fifth time, and remembered the little promise frank had made me. 

maybe that promise would help wash away the grey feeling.

I forced myself out of the bright-white sheets and climbed atop the cold desk chair. it took me a bit of struggling to undo the vent cover, a bit freaked out that _they_ would find me like this. 

I had to get it all done before _they_ would expect me to leave. which was some undetermined time, but it most definitely existed. but there were no footsteps in the hall, so I calmed my jittery hands and finally undid the screws with the help of an old pen and some paperclips.

I was safe. at least for now. 

the vent was dark and vacant for the most part, leaving only the imagination to fill what lay within that darkness. I had never noticed just _how_ dark the vents were. for the institution always kept the lights on low at night, but never pitch-black. 

the ambiguity of the inky darkness freaked me out a good bit.

still I took a deep breath, and thrust my hand into the abyss. I held my breath, half-expecting one of my creations to be waiting in there for me to bite my arm clean off. waiting for it to consume me alive, after it had caught me like a deer in headlights. 

but I was just met with a stack of papers. 

they too scared me at first, causing my hand to jump on reflex after having felt around the vacant space for a while, but I figured it out before I could fall to the floor or have some other rash reaction.

I jolted my hand back out of the vent. closed it up so quick that it made a small thump as it fit back into the wall.

I looked down at the stack of papers. they were stapled together, more rich in colors than any book I'd every seen. I couldn't help but wonder just how bright they really were, when they were seen though unfiltered eyes. 

I supposed I'd find out the next day. or possibly that very night. I couldn't remember how long it took for my system to flush the drugs. maybe it'd be quicker than back then, because I was about two heads taller now than I was at twelve.

but I didn't wait to see all the colors with unfiltered lenses. I was on limited time, so my patience was far down the drain.

I hastily flipped through one of the thin books, trying to catch some story before _they_ came to check in on me. the pages were covered in small square drawings of stylized characters. covered in brights and darks but rarely the dull. 

not dull like it was in here. the book was fucking beautiful. for a moment, I was tempted make one of these myself. maybe I could make a short one before I left. a good-bye gift to frank. maybe make one for 001 too. maybe frank could even help _him_ make one.

but I knew there wasn't enough time, not for me. 

the muddled-clarity of the morning was shattered by the clacking of shoes against the linoleum halls. 

I shoved the stories beneath the mattress and crossed my fingers, hoping that _they_ wouldn't do room checks that day. 

they wouldn't, I had figured. that would be off-schedule. at least they shouldn't have, for theyhated going off-schedule.

I knew, they wouldn't dare do it unless someone forced their hand. unless they knew something was going on. there was no reason for _them_ to know about frank's little visit to my room the night before. 

_they_ had no reason to suspect anything.

it calmed me, at least enough to know I wouldn't be showing any nerves by the time anyone arrived. 

the door whooshed open, and still I stilled my breath. "it's time to go, 000. first-meal is in ten minutes." an institution worker said.

those reminders of time always felt like they were there solely to taunt us. they _knew_ that we didn't have any way of knowing exactly how many minutes had passed. of where we stood in our lives. of anything really outside of what _they_ told us. 

for some fucking reason, only _they_ could have one of those little time-telling devices wrapped around their wrist. we all knew the reason, though. 

the envy simmered in my blood just the same, more even. it never boiled though, just barely kept at bay by _their_ stupid fucking pill. 

but I just swallowed. down went every ounce of pride, and I kept it secret in my throat as I walked out of my room.

during first-meal, frank sat beside me. slammed his tray down just as he did the first time. only I didn't react this time. it wasn't enough to really shake me, not with the medication's aftershocks (or more the lack thereof). 

he didn't respond beyond a glance carrying a strange look. he never dared to speak a word. 

not that that mattered, though. the arrogant look was wiped right off his face, for some reason, replaced by the slightest hint of a somber frown.

still I didn't react. it scared me how I didn't react, at least not really react. like the ghost of an emotion never surfacing.

I just looked back down at my food and picked.

at some point during the day, the pills wore off. I couldn't pinpoint just where, but it faded somewhere into the oblivion of dullness. somewhere along the timeline of a public interactions lesson.

not that anyone could really tell. frank may have known the moment he saw me, but it wasn't like he was there to watch the effects fade.

but when I finally could feel in full again, the anticipation just grew and grew. by third meal, I was nearly sick with excitement. and everyone else was none the wiser. i had to keep it that way, even if I felt like I was going to burst, after not being able to feel for far too long.

I walked down the hall, straying behind the rush of other people. there was no one of guard yet, so no one was there to notice when I stopped in front of frank's door and knocked. I smiled so wide it hurt my cheeks, but I was just so glad to have the numbness gone.

but when the door whooshed open, when I was greeted with his face, I saw it was still void of that contagious smile of his.

he asked, "what is going on with you?", before i could so much as sit.

I must've reacted, even if I didn't know it I rarely made attempts to hide reactions around frank. 

"what was going on?", he asked, replacing his previous question.

I just sighed and sat on the cold floor, leaning my back against the ice-toned wall. I could feel the joy slipping away quick as liquid through my hands. still, I was just happy to feel something; anything. 

"I just couldn't sleep. it's no big deal." I said, maybe a bit melodramatic.

"yeah, but you don't seem tired, so what is it?" he asked, hurried and worried in a way I couldn't remember seeing anyone like before. not even in deja vu. "are you okay? do you regret yesterday? do you regret all of this? it's okay if you do, but just tell me if you do please." 

he rambled on and on with his questions, digging himself into a deeper hole right before my eyes. I finally realized that, oh, he thought this was about him. 

the guilt wrenched in my stomach, even though I knew there really was no one to blame. it clenched my chest the same, because he was probably thinking it over and over again throughout the entire day.

"no." i said, quiet so no one but him would hear. even then, I wasn't entirely sure he'd hear me when I said it. "no it's not that at all, I just _had_ to take one of those fucking pills to sleep. I don't regret anything, not really. not in the way you think I do. I just, I don't want _you_ to regret any of this."

I felt the soft warm of his body take a seat beside me on the floor.

"I won't, promise." he said, "I'll miss you like hell, but I won't ever regret it."

it dissolved a bit of the guilt, but it didn't fix everything. nothing he could ever say would.

I leaned my head against his shoulder, kind of bony but comforting because it was him. still I couldn't look at him, yet again, and let my tearless eyes stare into the dark under his bed. 

just like when I'd stuck my hand in the vents, it filled me with fear. but I didn't dare move. I didn't want to move. 

I just wanted to stay there. watch my small archive of _good_ memories play out, stretched across the screen of my mind. 

I lay there, living in the scent and the warmth of his skin, until I got to the memory of last night. never cried, not a single tear. 

"I'm sorry." I muttered against his shoulder. "I just-"

but I faltered. I didn't know what to say. he just hugged my head close to my shoulder. 

"it's okay." he said, "i like being here with you."

we just sat there, on the cold concrete floor. in the comfortable company of one another. 

he eventually fell asleep against my head. his small breaths moving strands of my hair in front of my eyes. the rise and fall of his chest slowly rocked me to sleep. 

almost, at least. my eyelids grew heavier until they fell shut and my neck snapped forward. waking me back up. 

frank's head fell on the back of my neck, but the steady rhythm of his breathing remained uninterrupted. I silently picked him up and carried him over to his bed. tucked him under those cold covers. 

he looked so peaceful in his sleep. so unlike his normal outspoken self, but still so much like him. it seemed so odd, that such a picture could exist. yet it seemed so right.

I placed a quiet kiss on his temple and tiptoed out of the room. I was tired, but I wouldn't sleep for a while yet. not until I had read all that those bright books held.

only then could I fade into the dark sleep until the next day.


	7. throw out your cares and fly

everything was going well.

everything looked like it was going well. at least, everything looked like it was going according to plan. not well, but the best I could really hope for.

I had read watchmen, the comic books which frank had left me stacked in those vents. i found the story, the pictures, it all, wonderful.

not the pure happiness sort of wonderful, but a similar sort to trainspotting. just absolutely great. so absolutely desolate and so wonderfully chaotic. it sparked a fire in my head quieter than any rebellion: safe, but still present. it was perfect, really.

it had sparked a fire so perfect that it had given me the inspiration to write a little story. though i wanted it to be more colorful than it had turned out, it couldn't have been. the institution was no place for fostering artistic skills, even in an against-the-rules sort of way, so i only had a few pencils and pens and thankfully also a yellow highlighter at my disposal. 

it was enough, even though i didn't have anywhere close to a full range of colors. i hadn't really seen much more in terms of supplies since around the time i had turned fifteen, after their brief stint where they let us have a bit more access to stuff like that and then closed it down quickly. i wasn't lucky enough to keep any of the materials from then, but i had made do before.

and I still made do here.

it was a three page, thirty-panel story. about me and 001, about when we had just arrived here. only things were different in that world. 

we had saving the world inside those thirty panels. we had stopped the institution, saved the world from _them._ we'd become the pure opposite of killing machines designed specially for _them_. 

I thought maybe it would give him the courage to run away. maybe he and frank, they could leave this place together. I would be just another memory, but that's all you could really hope for down in the institution. or, at least, that's all I could really hope for.

and it brought a small smile to my face. the thought everything would be okay, okay enough.

I tried to remember that as I poked at the oxidized apple slices on my tray, all set in a neat circle. I _did_ remember that everything would be alright as it could be, and that was comforting.

but almost as if _they_ were listening in on my thoughts, someone tapped frank's shoulder. at first, I thought it would be regarding frank's transfer. but then they tapped mine as well. 

first, there was confusion. then I watched the color drained from frank's face, and then it all flooded my veins with pure fear.

"000, 007, come with me.", she said.

but it wasn't like we had an option. she grabbed our arms with a tight grip and practically yanked us out of our chairs and dragged us out of the cafeteria.

"you," she said, talking to frank, "you're meeting with section head at first period."

frank nodded solemnly, and it felt so unlike him. but I was glad for it in that moment, because I was scared of what was to come if he _weren't_ to go along with it.

"and you, 000, second period." she said. "I suggest you both pack. we're probably going to have you transferred. and 000, I suggest you shower, it may be a few days before you get the chance again."

and as suddenly as she appeared, she disappeared down the hall.

"what the hell was that?" frank said, his words echoing down the vacant hall, "they can't. they can't just _do_ that."

"and what the _fuck_? 'it may be a few days', what in the hell does _that_ mean?" I asked. 

but as the words rolled over my teeth, I realized exactly what it meant: my worst nightmare. the realization sank into my stomach like lead in a bottomless well.

"shit.", I spat, quieter this time, "they're going to keep me in observation. _fuck_. they're gonna, they're gonna keep me until my nineteenth birthday. aren't they." 

the realization so terrible that I should've been crying. I should've been bawling my fucking eyes out. but I couldn't.

instead I just stood there petrified. afraid to move an inch, even though that probably would've been better than just standing there. 

_nothing_ made sense anymore. _nothing_ was going according to plan. 

"I don't want to die yet." I finally choked out, quiet. so quiet that I wasn't sure if frank had heard me. so quiet that _I_ could barely hear me. 

but the moment I could speak those words, something inside me snapped. I turned to run down the hall. faster than I had ever ran. faster, before _they_ could even think to catch me. 

that was the end of this all. I was changing my plans.

I was painting over the old ones, after _they_ had so rudely marked my old ones as their own. I'd never give them the chance to ruin my new plans.

I ran to my room. shoved everything I cared about into the only schoolbag: all the drawings, the small collection of books, all the things I'd deemed art supplies, and the tiny pencil I'd kept as a keepsake from when I'd last seen 001. 

I zipped up the bag and swung it over my shoulder, and the whole process was done in a matter of seconds.

I closed the door on the way out, and ran to frank's room before I could change my mind. before I could realize how fucking stupid of an idea this was.

he opened the door, and I panted out "let's leave. I'm leaving."

he looked at me, a small pile of uniform clothes in his hands. his face was a little baffled, but it didn't detract from the fact he was absolutely beaming. 

" _fuck_ yes, let's leave. let's _run_." he breathed, like he'd been the one of us running around like a bat out of hell.

he dropped the clothes, letting them fall in a crumpled pile on the floor, to catch me in an elated hug. I could feel his heart beating fast, like gunshots, against my chest. 

"I'll shove my shit into my bag," he said with the widest smile I'd ever seen, "and we're gonna get the hell out of here."

he was nervous as he said it. you could read it on his lips and in his tone. but of course he was nervous. 

escaping this place was nothing short of a deathwish. if you got caught trying, who knew what _they_ would do? 

all gerard knew were terrible stories told about by the other residents. rumors, really. they'd probably even been started by _them_ to make sure we never left. to make sure they could use what remained of our carefully calibrated self-preservation instincts.

I didn't put it past them though; what the stories said _they_ 'd do. 

some of the tales seemed all too familiar to be false. some almost mirrored what _they_ would do each time I slipped up: when they found my drawings, when they found the hidden pills, when they found out I'd lied for my brother to protect him from _them_. 

that one had been the worst punishment of all. the consequences of it all, after the punishment, they'd been infinite times worse.

still, I didn't want to die. not yet. I refused.

I just wanted to get the hell out of here.

frank glanced back over at me, bag secured on his shoulder.

"alright, let's go." he said. 

and we ran.


	8. even in the face of armageddon

I thought it was go to be dramatic. 

I _wanted_ it to be dramatic. I wanted it to be some big fucking explosion, some big symbolic bang of a violent start-gun as we ran for our lives. but it wasn't. 

not really. 

it was heart-racing, it was crazy, but it wasn't because of all the action. there wasn't much action, not in our first moments of freedom as we ran down the halls.

it only felt so frantic because we knew what was at stake. and down here, anything out of the drain of everyday life in the institution felt entirely out of this world. 

but I had dreamed about this moment for a long time. I never thought I'd see the day for it to come to fruition, I hadn't thought that for years. but this was nothing compared to those fantastical tales. it didn't align with a single one of the many I'd played out in my head over the years. 

it still sent my pulse racing. it still had my mind scrambling with adrenaline and anticipation and fear.

we ran down those halls, the halls of our section, bags in hand. 

but soon we even had to stop running. we knew the noise of shoes, soft as ours were, would draw too much attention to us. we needed to keep _all_ eyes off of us, not only _their_ eyes. 

the loud tapping of our shoes on the floor slowed to a silent pitter-patter just before we walked past an office. 

I had rarely been in this part of the building. some things had changed since I had last been. a few new coffee stains on the wall, some graphite marks had disappeared, the lights had changed from the old warmer tones to the colder ones that occupied most corners of this place.

since I had been moved to this section, I had been more careful. I'd grown incredibly hesitant to make any visible wrong move. I kept everything very well-hidden, all in fear of what _they_ would do.

but here we were, in those cold office spaces. it smelled like bleach and sugar, contrasting the room wards which were at most times scentless. 

the walls were also a warmer, darker shade of grey. something about it was so offputting, though I couldn't place a finger just on why. like each detail was trying its best to hide what it had been so carefully designed to hide, but I couldn't see _what_ it was hiding. or even if it was hiding anything.

after what felt like an hour, even though I _knew_ it had only been moments of tiptoeing, we passed by the last office in the hall. 

but then, frank came to a halt just around the corner. 

I didn't know what he was doing or why. I just halted right with him, and waited for some sort of answer. 

I wanted to ask him why, but I was far too scared to speak. we were so close to freedom, far as we were. it was the closest I'd been since I'd wound up in the institution. I could taste it in the air, in the back of my lungs. 

I couldn't risk being found out. not before I even so much as stepped one foot in the outside world again. if I had ever been there in the first place. 

so I waited. for whatever he was awaiting. waited what felt like forever.

but then the last office's occupant left to go somewhere. I caught my breath in a silent gasp. I hadn't even considered that they could leave their offices at any moment. but he hadn't spotted us, tucked just around the corner, and my heart slowly resumed to where it had been.

the moment he stepped out of view, frank ran into his office. I followed close behind, still wondering what the hell he was doing.

I watched as he dug around in just about every place he could find. I just stood there, wishing I could help, but knowing that the space was too silent to risk asking what he was looking for. 

but frank was quick, quicker than I would've thought him to be. quicker than I would've thought anyone to be, because he pulled something not even palm-sized out of a stack of papers. but he'd found it, and that cooled my nerves a bit more.

I took a better look at it; it was a card, square and white with a picture and a bunch of metallic bits. I'd seen a lot of _them_ carrying those sorts of cards around. they didn't often display them, but sometimes you'd catch someone putting it back into a wallet or something on the way in, or as they rifled through their cards and such.

he took another look at the card, reading it over, checking it carefully. but he was quick about it, and we both hurried out of that office in no time. even if I did trip over my feet a bit on the way out, we had done it.

what it was, I wasn't quite sure. I just knew it was important, and from the beaming look on frank's face, a sign that we were almost out of this place. 

we rushed down the hall, hearts pounding, until we reached a locked door near the end of a hall. metal and cold like the lunchtrays, with a blinking black plastic rectangle beside it. 

frank flashed the card over the box, and the doors opened into an elevator. i'd only ever seen one long ago, when moving, but the card-readers seemed to be new.

I awaited the final moments, when the red light switched to green on the plastic box. but then _they_ came.

behind us, i could hear the beat of footsteps, _their_ footsteps, cold and calculated and with an uncharming arrogance like no other. 

I stared at the doors, as they seemed to inch open, willing them to have some sense of urgency. but they didn't. of course they didn't, and i knew they wouldn't. 

the steps were far too close now. a pair stopped abrubptly, and I held my breath like it would make any difference.

a large hand clamped by my throat, trying to stop me as those damned elevator doors _finally_ opened.

I kicked but never screamed. as horrifying as the moment was, I didn't want more of _them_ to notice. I could take one of _them_ on, if I convinced myself hard enough. I _had_ to. I was so fucking close to finally getting out. 

I kicked backward as hard as I could, but he wouldn't budge. not for long enough for me to escape. I couldn't see anything anymore. all there was to see were small sparks of lighting and cloud of angry tears. 

but I could feel that frank was there. and that he, too, was being carried away. 

I kept kicking and kicking until I kicked particularly high. and finally, as I hit his gut square-on, he was sent backward. finally letting me go.

the storm above my eyes cleared, and I could see frank again. 

adrenaline pounding in my ears, I picked up my bag, and swung it above my head until it landed on his captor's. 

he stumbled back, as the one who had been responsible for capturing me tried once again to grab me.

but he couldn't, we were too quick this time around. we ran to the elevator before they could try and stop us again. the doors closing quickly this time, with the help of a button aside the door.

and then, it was just us. in a claustrophobic tin box, where the panting of our breath was louder than the blood in my ears, rising up and up to god-knows-where. 

hopefully out. I crossed my fingers, but knew I could never really know just how this ends.

as gravity pulled at our bodies more than it had before, it felt like the walls were closing in around us. cold, metal, blank. 

it had to very few buttons, only a neat nine by nine grid on once side. not like the millions of buttons that seemed to occupy the last elevator I had been in. perhaps this was just the way things changed, or perhaps it was a sign for the better: a sign that we were on our way out and not simply moving around within the institution.

but it was never certain, and I was never one to hold onto such flimsy hopes as that. I nervously fished for frank's hand, trying for a more concrete lifeline, but his was shaking. probably even more than mine. 

still, it helped. if only a little bit. merely keeping that bile at bay, the nerves still rattled me to the core. but it was something, when there was not much within my control at the moment, it was something warm to hold onto.

"it's going to be okay. we're going to get out of here." he whispered shakily. 

I couldn't tell if he was trying to convince himself or me. perhaps the both of us, but I knew him and felt for him too well to see his words objectively. 

instead it split me in half. one side trying to cling onto frank's hopes, as if he somehow _knew_ that we were going to be okay. the other calling me a fucking idiot, for not realizing that there was no way frank knew exactly how to get out of here, and that I'd just doomed myself to a fate I didn't have to.

I knew he'd probably tried to get out before. he seemed the type of person to have the guts. he _was_ , that's why we were here in the first place. he'd probably made a run for it before, many times, and he was still here. 

still, that other side of me was fluttering against my ribcage, awaiting the moment it could fly free at long last. it damned all logic to hell, and for that I really did love it, foolish as it was. it reminded me of some faint memory of myself.

but neither side won out before time was called, and the elevator stopped dead in its tracks. 

it jolted me straight out of my fears and left me a husk. almost as I had woken up, only there was far more brewing beneath the skin this time around.

the doors swept aside to reveal a bright room. it was still grey, but the marble floor reflected a warm glow around the room. sunlight I hadn't seen in ages streamed through tall windows, behind them a world of green and brown spindly trees. 

it was beautiful. 

people walked by us as if we were nowhere out of place. they seemed not to realize we had come out of the elevator, that we weren't supposed to be there. I found it odd, but I was fucking grateful in that moment.

a large glass door lay just across from us, and an involuntary smile crept across my face. despite the numbing adrenaline, I could feel it, true freedom behind that threshold. 

before I could so much as think the smallest danger in doing so, I grabbed frank's hand and ran straight towards it. 

the excitement proved fatal to our disguise of normality. the two remaining people in the room darted their eyes right at us. one of them hurriedly called someone on something that wasn't quite a telephone. the other barreled straight for us, hands outstretched. 

but we ran faster. we ran out the door, not even opening it with our hands, just pushing it open with the force of our bodies as we ran for our lives. 

she still barreled after us, catching up slowly. i could feel the sound of her steps growing nearer and nearer to our heels. 

I glanced over my shoulder only to spot that twenty more of _them_ had joined her, only with arms and restraints in tow. 

it terrified me out of my skull, and in that moment I wished I hadn't looked. but knowing now, I know it was a good thing, for knowing just made me run faster. 

somewhere, far away, I could hear the sound of a loud engine running. a large vehicle, maybe an ambulance size, from what I could remember. though I couldn't be sertain, especially because I couldn't even see the thing.

I just knew it was bad. something about it must've scared frank, which in turn scared me. his grip tightened and he began to run fast, even faster than I had been running. despite the shortness of his legs he was practically pulling me along until i caught up to his pace. 

the trees passed by us in a blur. I swore I could hear gunfire, but nothing ever hit us. it didn't even sound loud enough to be gunfire, and frank seemed to not notice it in the slightest. but still, I could've sworn it was there.

even if it seemed so unreal, I felt something sting the edge of my ear. it _had_ to be real. I couldn't block anything out of the realm of possibility, not when it came to ensuring we made it out of there alive.

we ran what felt like forever, through the woods and a field or two until we stumbled across a road. it was void of any cars or trucks, but it felt so strangely familiar. so strangely ominous, and I knew something bad was coming our way. 

but still. here the world was, laid out in front of our eyes. I couldn't stop to think about it, but I knew this was huge. I could feel it, humming in my veins, even if my mind was focused on one thing: running for a shot at life.

the noise of an engine roared in the distance, and frank freaked out again, though this time it was milder. he hid in a ditch across the road and i followed, calmer this time. 

the grass was a mix of lush and sharp in that ditch, beneath our knees, as we peered just over the top. so that no one could see us there, but we could gather an idea of just what was going on.

a van carting a graffitied trailer came into view from around the bend, and frank seemed to calm down. his hand stopped shaking so violently. 

he stood up, and I followed, still never letting go of his hand.

but he quickly ripped his own fingers out of the fabric to run up to the car and wave his hands violently at the driver. he looked so frantic, and yet so happy, it made me smile after that initial shock had settled. but still, my nerves were too dulled to let it show.

it stopped, and he yelled something through the window. but my head was too clouded with the sudden pounding of my blood vessels to hear a damn thing he was yelling. I felt like I was going to pass out.

but by the time frank was done with his convincing, I had shaken it out. only the dulled edge of the sharp blade of time remained as we piled into the passenger side, frank and I sharing the cushy seat.

the car began to pick up speed again, as frank better settled into the cushions. 

the two of them seemed relatively undisturbed, but from behind frank's head i could see the soldiers, _them_ , come out of the forest. they had ceased their shooting, and just looked around with looks of confusion. 

but I didn't want to alarm neither frank nor the kind curly-haired stranger, so I kept my mouth shit. it's not like they knew where we were, with those looks of confusion painted across their faces.

and even though i could hear engines behind us, _them,_ who caused frank to squirm in his seat, we were okay.

we were safe in this stranger's truck, it seemed. or so I hoped. and as seemed the case, as _they_ all faded from view. 

instead, all around us was nature. I missed it so much, I missed the unfenced version even more. even if the memory of the outside world wasn't even that, a simple case of deja vu, it tasted sweet to see the sun shining against the road ahead. 

we were safe, and more importantly, we were _free_.


	9. jukebox fuckups

the driver introduced himself as ray. we introduced ourselves as we knew ourselves to be, frank and g. he said it was a cool nickname. I didn't know what he meant, but went along with it. he explained how he'd exchanged his saturday afternoon for forty dollars, some free pizza and beer, and a favor to some of his friends. the trailer held some band equipment they'd snagged on the web for cheap, and a nice guitar ray had also managed to find cheap on the way out.

frank looked interested, like he was tempted to halt the van and hop into the trailer, but a nervous sort of shell sat thick over most of his excitement.

"maybe i'll be able to form a band." frank stated nervously, picking at hands. 

I didn't quite get why that was so nerve-wracking to say, though the nerves seemed to be more centered around whatever he was thinking.

"yeah, fucking do it!" ray said excitedly, "you already have the spirit, plus the guitar hands. you should do it."

he paused, like he realized something was off. my heart skipped a beat. perhaps we weren't actually safe from _them_ at all. perhaps he actually knew, and perhaps he'd drive us right back to where we'd run from.

but the moment passed, and we didn't turn around, and he kept his trustworthy vibe about.

"do you guys have a plan or anything?" he asked. he sounded a mix of curious and concerned. "like, what are you doing? you headed anywhere in particular?"

"um, no plan." frank said, already sounding at-home in the van of this person we'd just met. "where are we?"

"right now?" ray asked, pausing to recall, to look at the green digital clock on the dashboard. "about an hour outside ithaca. pretty much nowhereland, as you could probably tell."

he said it with a humorous sort of bitter that reminded me of frank's humor sometimes. I thought, perhaps, it was a result of knowing your name. or at least there was some form of connection there. it seemed to make some level of sense, in my head. at least it did in that moment.

frank nodded at ray's answer. he seemed to know where ithaca was. 

I, on the other hand, was left in the dust again. it felt somewhat strange, to be an outlier for the exact opposite reason I'd been an outlier for all my remembered life. it didn't bother me much, though. I was too wrapped up in the buzzing of my own head. 

though, I _was_ beginning to realize just how annoying my lack of any knowledge of the outer world was going to be. at least, once the buzzing stopped and i could feel real and proper in my own skin again. 

I just fear frank might end up annoying the living shit out of me as a result. I hoped he wouldn't, but the thought still gnawed at the back of my head. thank god my head was numbed enough not to feel it in that moment. it was the one upside of that buzzing. 

"so where are _you_ headed?" frank asked in a jestful sort of pointed way. it felt so characteristic of him that it broke a part of me from the buzzing of my head, letting me crack a warm smile at his tone and his own happy mood.

"new york." ray answered with an amused smile, "manhattan, really. by the docks, where they have the ferry. if you're familiar with the area."

unlike ithica, I knew new york. at least, I knew of new york. it had showed up in my lessons at least twenty times before. I didn't know it like the back of my hand or anything, but I knew it enough to not feel so out of place in that car. 

I was glad to not feel out of place, and frank seemed glad that we were headed toward new york. which, in turn, made me more glad. enough to feel the relief through the haze that still remained from the pill, minimal as it was.

"any chance you could drop us in belleville?" he asked with an excited smile.

"sorry, I can't." ray apologized, "they got a place in a show only an hour after I'm gonna drop everything off. 'm just taking the train back."

frank held his breath for a moment, and I could feel the smile run from his face. it made the new comfort run from my veins before it even had the chance to settle in. but ray looked like he was thinking, trying to sort something out, so I didn't abandon all hope yet.

"you could call someone, though.", he said, "my phone should be in the drink holder."

"thanks" he said, sighing out a breath of relief, a milder smile returning to his face. it made me relax a little more, slumping back into the cushy seat.

he reached for the contents of the drink holder, picking up a small box. it looked almost like the ipod, but bigger and grimier, with more glass taking over the entirety of one side, and no buttons anywhere except a few along the edges. 

frank looked at it, his eyebrows scrunching together so dramatically that I could spot it in the reflection of the glass screen. 

"shit's weird." frank stated plainly, with a subtle tone of humor.

I nodded in agreement, finding some comfort in knowing I wasn't alone in my blindness to this world. that it wouldn't simply be frank becoming the all-fucking-knowing because as much as I enjoyed him knowing stuff about the outside world, I couldn't stand being the only one _not_ knowing.

he poked at the phone a few times with his fingers. tried to find some sort of compartment that slid out or snapped out, but found no luck. he stared at it with a good, long questioning look, before sighing and giving up.

"sorry, one moment," ray said, "i'll unlock it." 

without even looking at it, he did. he simply hovered his thumb above a button on the phone and the screen filled with little colorful squares. looked almost like a simplified version of the screen of the ipod, though from frank's still-confused look, it wasn't much like the ipod.

his eyes darted around the screen for a few seconds, but he finally settled on tapping one green bubble labeled 'phone'. 

after that his confusion seemed to dissolve. I guess things had changed since he had been taken to the institution. 

he tapped the numbers and pressed another green button on the screen, and the phone began to ring. subtly, but you could still hear it even if your ear weren't pressed against it. it kind of reminded me of the things _they_ used to have a long time ago, probably some older version of this phone that had been removed after someone had stolen one, just as frank had stolen the ipod. 

frank held the phone up to his ear as the ringing continued, getting all still and stiff. suddenly the ringing stopped, and even his breathing stilled for a long moment.

"hi, mom?" frank squeaked out in an impossibly high tone. 

the stillness had disappeared quick. he was shaky once again, hands trembling and leg tapping, making me all nervous all over again. I tried to calm him down, to calm the both of us down, to at least convince ourselves that we were on our way to a better like. I tried to reach for his hand, but he payed no attention, simply brushing it aside.

for some uncertain reason, it just made me feel more nervous. more filled to the brim with fear. but there was nothing I could do in that moment but sit and wait. at least i was with frank, and at least we were there with ray.

"it's frank." he said. he paused. I could feel the droplets of saltwater falling on my legs. "I-. no, ma please don't call anyone. I'll just, I'll explain when I get back. just please meet at-" he glanced at the digital clock within the truck. "pick me up at the newark-manhattan ferry dock at three. new york side." he paused again. "I missed you so much."

he took the phone from his ear and put it back in the cupholder, collapsing against me. saltwater droplets falling cold against my arms, clashing against the warmth he radiated. he was still shaking, still crying, but I got the feeling that he wasn't sad. 

he gave off an entirely different emotion entirely. something I had no memory, not even the slightest bit of deja vu, of never knowing nor never feeling.

"thank you." he said with a weary cheerfulness.

"no problem." he said, though the way he twisted his face gave the notion he'd considered asking something. probably what was going on with the phone conversation that had left frank all sniffles. though it appeared he'd decided on not asking.

"do you have any cds?" frank asked. his voice was still a little scratchy and muffled from the crying, but he sounded relieved, and it thankfully cooled the nerves once again.

"not now," ray said, "I left them in my car, but there's an aux cord. feel free to choose whatever you want from my music."

he chose something, and it seemed to act like a repellent of nervous air. it made everything feel normal and casual, despite how rare and out of place this all was in our lives. I savored it, though not too hard, as when I did it seemed to ruin the serenity. 

the hours ticked on and frank and ray sang along to the music, both the words and occasionally they'd start singing on behalf of some other instruments. I recognized a few of the songs, which felt so odd considering I'd never listened to them, though it seemed that sort of thing had been happening more and more when I was around frank.

the two of them even made conversation from time to time. and while I mostly listened whenever they'd share an exchange, I'd even sometimes talk.

I still didn't quite know what to say most of the time, it seemed frank had a similar though far less severe issue. yet in my head, it felt like something was finally giving, some dam in my brain was beginning to stress and fracture in this world. 

it made me happy and hopeful, as much as I tried to not let it. this was everything I had wished for, everything except to have my brother with me. but in time, I swore to myself, I would break him out of there too. 

I swore to myself, I'd come back for him. no matter what.

when the digital clock reached two, the buildings had started to climb higher and higher. the streets became more and more crowded. traffic, as ray deemed it, and I could remember something about it from lessons. 

we drove on, out into where the traffic dispersed and gave way to a mostly flat scenery of painted brick buildings. we seemed to be nearing where we were going, nearing three o'clock, and ray asked a question which seemed to have been biting at him for a while now.

"so what exactly happened to you guys? what were you hiding in a ditch from?"

"if we told you, you wouldn't believe us. hell, I wouldn't believe us if I didn't fucking live it." he paused, "why exactly _did_ you pick us up? shit, I wouldn't've. I mean, fucking thank you for doing it, you saved our fucking asses, but we could've been some escaped psycho murderers or something."

"yeah." ray said, "but you look like fucking nurses, you can't be any older than me, and no offense but you don't exactly look the strongest. if I needed to, I could've handled you guys trying to murder me."

I stifled a chuckle, as I realized the irony of his statement. frank and I _were_ trained to be fucking murderers. though there was no way he could've known that sort of thing.

"hey, what's that supposed to mean?" frank asked, seeming offended. 

he shifted in my lap, and I suddenly remembered 001 had the same long ago, posing for a picture somewhere. I couldn't remember where, or why. it just scared me for some reason. sent my skin crawling, and I couldn't sit still. 

it was so long ago. a memory buried deep under my skin, so deep I should've forgotten it by now. but I swallowed it down. kept it secret in my throat, at least for now, maybe I'd save it for some other time, when things were more certain.

for now, I only let it leak out as a giggle. frank was being amusing, and I just wanted to stay happy for a while. it was such a rare occurrence in the facility, and for all I knew it was a rare occurrence in the outer world as well.

"nevermind." ray said, shaking his head and smiling like he found frank amusing too. "but, if it counts for anything, if I was crazy enough to pick up two guys hiding in a ditch, maybe I'm crazy enough to believe your story."

"maybe." frank said, "doubt it, though."

then it was so loud, louder than anything I had heard before. louder than the blaring alarm meant to wake us up in the mornings, louder then the footsteps in the silent of the hall as I'd snuck around in the cover of dark, louder than the music when it was pressed to my ears as frank blared the ipod's volume. 

hell it was louder than the gunfire that cracked across the seemingly endless sky.

it was absolutely terrifying. I could feel my insides twisting up into a tight coil as the noises got louder and louder, replacing the constant hum of the fan and the wheels. 

it wasn't just the volume, there were so many different things causing the noises, all at once. countless of people talking, so many automobiles running, metal clanging, crashing, noises that I didn't know and couldn't tell where they were coming from. 

I felt as if I was going to be sick, the sour bile biting at the back of my tongue. but I swallowed down. kept my cool. 

this was what I had wanted, after all. we had somehow pulled it off. we were there.

and it wasn't like the city hadn't been louder. this, for some reason, was simply getting to me. an interruption against the vacant airwaves.

then we turned the corner, and the sounds muffled. and everything was alright again.

ahead of us lie the ocean. it was one of those things I'd convinced myself was a myth, even if it looked and sounded so distantly familiar, so distantly _real_. I'd reasoned that there was no way something could be that vast and look so vacant and yet be full of life and danger and all things of all sorts. 

I looked out at it, finding myself staring so long at it that my eyes began to itch. the sun glinted off the waves, all broken up like tiles under the dissection light. and yet it seemed so serene, with something so ominous of an undertone. it made me uneasy and yet at peace, captivating me again.

but frank shook my side, breaking me away from the view. 

"sorry, g. we've got to go soon." he said, voice quiet as if he'd shatter something with too high an amplitude. 

perhaps it was because he was about to visit his mother for the first time in a long time, even then I knew that was the probable answer. 

and while he sounded so solemn, I still somewhat envied that he could actually feel that, to miss someone like that. someone from his past. something entirely different than what he and I had, even though the similarities were there.

I had no one to return to. and even if I _did_ , I had no way of knowing _who_ I had to return to. I had virtually no memories of a time before the facility, and whatever memories I _did_ have felt like deja vu. nothing more. I was so fucking disconnected.

there was still that small beam light; that hope that I would eventually remember something, even if it wasn't a full past like frank had. I just wanted anything solid from before the facility. 

I knew that was pushing my luck. even being here in the first place was pushing my luck. and I knew that once I remembered, I'd just want to remember more. downside of feeling.

ray came to a stop. I looked back out at the waters, able to clearly see it now that we were no longer moving. able to see where the water was met by pavement. where it licked and spat upon the ashy-grey surface. 

the only thing between the ground and the blue-green ocean was a black metal fence. it looked flimsy enough that if ray were to forget the brakes, we would all plunge into the water. at least, the way the ground was tilted and the way we were facing.

the thought terrified me. took me out of my envy, and out of even the joy of having seen the ocean at long last.

sure, the water could be inches deep. but there was just as much chance that it would be endlessly deep. and while I could swim, there was a big difference between a giant unpredictable sea and the two facility's pools that I had swam in.

I trusted ray enough to not beeline it for our deaths and all. I trusted him more than most people in my life thus far, and so far I hadn't died at _anyone's_ hand, nevermind ray's. but the paranoia still filled my blood with a sort of dread I couldn't rid while we sat there.

"'ey, g." frank spoke softly, still afraid of breaking that unknown thing, tugging at my arm just as gently, "we've gotta go." 

he had already gotten out of the car, without me even realizing. I cursed myself, for forgetting myself as I had, even if it was almost serene. if only it wouldn't have gone all doom-and-gloom on me. 

either way, I shouldn't have forgotten where we were. I knew better than that, and the fucking institution had trained me better than that. even if I still hated their fucking guts. 

I shifted off the seat, shoving myself off and out of the cushions as my legs seemed weaker than when we'd first sat in the van. I thought that, certainly, they could still hold my weight. I was wrong, though, and the moment my feet hit the pavement my legs gave out under me.

ray and frank scrambled to catch me, but ray was too far and frank was too weak from laughing his ass off to even hold his own posture. I cursed him for somehow managing to stand fine after getting out of the van. I had no clue how he'd done it, when he'd been under just the same circumstances. 

I liked, and still like, to think he'd done the same while I was busy off being captured by the oceanic scenery. though I somewhat doubted it, from the way he was walking just fine before he'd collapsed in laughter.

he and ray helped me up, though. ray did most of the heavy lifting, as frank was still weak with laughter, but I was back up on my feet soon enough. 

my legs still felt like jelly, but I was able to walk alright on them. my feet, on the other hand, were a different story. every step I took felt like a thousand sharp objects stabbing into the soles of my feet. I just grit and bear it. it wasn't like I had anywhere else to go. and in time I knew the sensation would fade just as my inability to stand had.

and it did. slowly, as we walked around the space, the numbness and the stabbing sensation subsided. everything seemed to be turning around for the umpteenth time today. the clouds began to fade from the sky, and I was reminded again what the warmth of sinlight felt like.

it had been too long, probably over a week now. the bright light stung my eyes, a thousand lightbulbs clouding my vision. I let it kill my eyes for a second too long, and I could feel the strain, but still it was nice to remember a warmer brightness. 

still, when I turned it felt nice upon the nape of my neck. a quiet and dry warm shower. contrasting the sharp brightness that even made me turn my gaze away from the ocean, now that the sun glared off of it and shot beams right into my eyes.

while I missed its mysticism, I reminded myself it was going to be there the next day, and the day after that. I wouldn't have to miss it forever, or even for long. there was no more facility for me or for frank.

not for now. not until we found a way to break 001 out of that place. and then we'd _never_ be back again.

"who are you guys waiting for?" ray asked, breaking the careful silence.

"I don't-" i began.

"my mom." frank answered, seeming to no longer care too much about the fragility of the quiet he'd created.

"I don't mean to intrude but what the hell happened with you guys?" he asked, trying but failing to mask the anxiety that was lacing its way through his vocal cords, "who wasn't she supposed to call or whatever? and, just _why- what?_ "

I waited for frank to answer this time.

truth was, I was about as lost as ray. I probably wanted to know even more than ray did, because I had next to no clue what the hell was going to become of us, now that we'd reached here. 

but it didn't seem like frank had too clear of an idea either. he just put the conversation on pause, seemingly to think of some answer as he stared out at the sky like there was some answer hidden among the clouds.

"a lot of shit happened, where me and g came from. I just want to get back to my mom." he said, "I don't know how far everything extends. and it's not like my _mom_ would even believe me, nevermind anyone else. it's just better to play it safe, trust no one for now."

"okay, but you trusted me?" ray questioned warily. "where exactly were you escaping from?" 

"there wasn't much choice, I probably wouldn't have risked it otherwise." frank said, "no offense. where we came from, it makes you all paranoid like that. we just call it the institution, but honestly I have no fucking clue what it's called. just a terrible fucking place, the less you know about it the better."

ray went silent, staring down at his shoes. his face twisted into a look that was equal parts certain and confused. like he'd solved some puzzle, only to find the answer made less sense than the mystery.

"sorry," ray said, lacing his syllables together with a thread of caution, "but did you guys escape from a mental institution or something?"

for a second, the thought jumped across my mind. but it simply didn't make sense. frank and I would've remembered that. and mental institutions, I'd heard about them. I knew what they were. the institution was an entirely different creature.

"no." frank said quick and panicked, almost like a involuntary reaction. it helped snap me back into the reality that we had escaped an entirely different place. "why the fuck would i call my mom to pick me up if i just escaped a mental institution?"

ray's face rested back into his previous state, far more confused than clear. "yeah. I guess it wouldn't make sense." 

"yeah." frank said, voice back in it's normal airy tone. "thanks for saving our asses, by the way. those motherfuckers were, probably still _are_ , out for blood. I, quite literally, owe you my life."

ray smiled again. he was the only person other than frank and 001 that I'd seen smile before, as far as I could remember. his had a familiarity about it. it lacked the certain amount of insolence that frank's held, but it was even warmer. 

"ah, keep it. " he said. the confusion had left his voice and we were all back to normal. "seems like you just got it back. besides, I won't need it unless those motherfuckers start after _my_ blood."

"so, g." he asked. he looked my in the eye, but it wasn't cold like _their_ stares. it wasn't hot and piercing like frank's. it was just warm, friendly. it felt so strangely, so distantly, familiar. "that's a funny name. is it short for something?" 

"probably." I said, not knowing the answer myself. my words were far quieter than everyone else's, falling quiet among the crashing waves. "yeah. I guess."

"you guys are just one big mystery, huh." he said. "even to yourselves, apparently."

"it's probably best to remain that way." frank said, "for your sake, of course. and probably ours."

" _christ_. and you expect me not to be curious?" ray asked. "you sound like some film noir spy or some shit."

"just warning you." frank retorted, with that infamous smile.

a car neared the almost vacant lot by the port, what I could only assume was designed to dock a ferry. frank seemed to be wary of the car, disappearing out of sight and trying to look into it. I followed suit, scared that maybe _they_ had tracked us to new york.

ray just stood by and looked at us like we were mad for a moment. but he indulged us and hid himself from sight, thankfully. even though we all knew it probably wasn't _them_. 

frank squinted, looking toward the car for a few minutes, before creeping away from the shadows of the building. this was someone he trusted, or at least someone he didn't think was with the facility. I followed him out of the shadows. as I left the cool blanket, the sun curdled my eyesight once again.

"it's my mom." frank said, his tone breathy and high, like he didn't believe it but was willing to drop his disbelief to take this moment. 

he started running toward the car, even faster than he had when we were being chased by _them_. neither I nor ray could keep up with him. not that we tried too hard. it was still amusing to see him sprinting so fast.

"he's something, isn't he." ray noted with a tone of endearment that was present, even though his lungs were working hard to catch his breath.

"yeah." I responded, laughing quietly between gasps for oxygen.

"you don't talk much, do you?" he asked. "I used to be like that" 

I just nodded, because I didn't know how to respond. I wasn't used to responding, but he seemed alright with that. and that made everything seem a bit more alright, even if frank and I had effectively smashed it all to bits.

we gave up running, and reached the car at a more leisurely pace. the car was much smaller than the van, rather short and grey and similar to many of the other cars I had seen as we passed by the city. nice and inconspicuous. 

frank was leaning into the car window and speaking to someone, his mother I presumed. he seemed to be in some very intense and emotional conversation, but every few seconds he'd snap his head to the side with every small noise.

as I finally approached him, he jumped around with a look of absolute terror on his face. the first thought that jumped into my head was that we had been found out, leaving me equally horror-stricken as his face had seemed. but then frank burst out laughing. 

"dude, you fucking scared me!" he said between laughs. "you're quiet as a fucking mouse!"

"frank, language." the woman in the car warned. 

her hair was lighter than frank's, closer to my brown hair, only it had little bits of blonde where the sun shone on it. her face resembled frank's, but it didn't have the same arrogance or the same sharpness to it. but she didn't sound much like frank, beyond the warm tone. but something about it was so recognizable, so reminiscent of something I couldn't remember. 

"who are these people?" she asked.

"that's g," he said, gesturing who was who, " and that's ray."

"g, that's a funny name." she said. 

it seemed to be something everyone was noting. she didn't seem to push it, though. she seemed to have a mind preoccupied with bigger issues. probably what the hell had happened to her son in those years, and who the hell I was. 

frank and I piled into the small car, and ray waved us goodbye as we waved back.

"call me if you need anything, I live probably half an hour from here." he said as he walked away, turning around as he added on, " I really mean it, it's not just niceties, swear."

"thanks!" frank shouted from the window, "good luck at the show!"

"thanks!" ray returned, waving one final goodbye, at least for now.

he climbed back in the van as we sat in the car in silence. a strange tension had formed between frank and his mother, both of them seeming to be breathing as quiet and evenly as possible. it scared me slightly, but it didn't terrify me in the same way that _they_ did. 

something inside my mind, whatever normal part of me was left, told me that everything would be alright, that this was to be expected. that we were really out of that fucking place. fucking free, for good.


	10. when the world comes crashing in

frank's mom started the car, and we began to move again. this automobile drove much smoother than the van which ray drove. it didn't really feel familiar at all, not that I though of it. even the van had a sort of back-burner familiarity in the way it reacted to each bump and corner.

but here, whenever we'd go over speed bumps the gravity never really seemed to shift. and whenever we'd turn corners, it never felt much like we were being pulled off to one side or another. 

the fact that frank was no longer sitting on my lap probably had something to do with that. even with my limited experience in moving vehicles, I'd studied physics and simply studied the way things worked in films before. 

now frank sat across from his mother in the front right-hand seat of the car, leaving me alone in the back of the car. it felt a bit lonely, but I almost missed being kind-of alone. even if it had felt a bit awful at first, frank was really the only thing I _knew_ in this world, I also knew nothing bad would come of it. 

he was a mere few feet away. and I could fucking breathe and stretch and move. it was nice.

I moved to the left side of the back seat, where I could see that frank was still there. it felt childish, but he was still the only person who knew both this world and the one that we had left. 

without him, I knew I wouldn't been good as dead, I'd _still_ be as good as dead. not that we weren't already, but the odds were infinitely better thanks to him. 

"frank, could you explain what the hell is going on. please." his mother asked, cutting through their strained silence.

frank looked back at me, as if he expected _me_ to somehow explain this. I said nothing. just gave him a confused and possibly slightly offended look.

while I could explain bits and pieces of our situation, there were a lot of holes in my memories. and I knew that telling her could land both her _and_ us in deep shit: deeper shit than we were already in. 

but he left me alone after that. quickly swept his gaze around the car twice, looking for any sign of _them_ , before opening his mouth to answer. only he didn't, for a moment. he just stared like a dead fish with his mouth hung slightly open for a few seconds before he actually spoke.

"I-I don't know what they told you when I went to the hospital, but I didn't run off or whatever." he said, "they transported me to this _place_ , mom. it was fucking _awful_."

his mom told him again not to swear. she sounded so strangely serene about the whole thing, what frank was telling her. but I supposed people reacted to things differently. especially giant things like this.

"I don't know exactly where it was," he continued, without missing a beat after being told off, "but they were training me and g here and a all of other kids to be fucking assassins, or almost assassins, or whatever."

his mom sighed and gave up her attempts to filter his mouth for the moment.

"it's not always hits, sometimes it's spying or whatever, but it's _horrible_." he said, emphasizing his words with gestures as he spoke. "there's all these people working there and they're all cold and flat. and the place is the same, you should _see_ the fucking place. but I can't really know who to trust, you know?"

he paused, like he was waiting for an answer. but it never came, whatever it was.

"'cept for you of course. and ray. ray is good." he said, giving up on waiting. "but how could they do all that shit and have no one poking their noses there? me and g are gonna need to cut and dye our hair, and get some different clothes soon."

frank's mom glanced at him with a subtle look of disbelief, but she didn't seem all that surprised. like she'd heard the story once before, maybe many times, but long ago.

it all seemed so tense then, even though she seemed to be familiar with the subject matter. 

she scrunched her neck between the base of her skull and her shoulders, as if she were a turtle trying to retract back into her shell. her grip on the steering wheel tightened so much that her knuckles were turning white as the walls of the facility. 

"so, g." she said through strained teeth. you could still tell, even if she was trying to come off normal and laid-back enough." is that a nickname? who are your parents, they would probably love to see you after, you know, you've been away?" 

she seemed so kind, she _was_ so kind about it all, but she fired questions at me like they were fucking bullets.

"I don't know my name," I confessed, "frank here gave me that nickname, because it's how I sign my drawings and, all. and I don't know who my parents are. or even if I _have_ any. it's been about seven years, though." 

I picked awkwardly at the pilled cotton of the now dirt-and-grass-stained pants as I spoke.

she muttered something I couldn't hear before the care fell silent again. 

I watched out the window as she continued to drive onward. the setting here was different. the facility had told us about the outside world, but they'd never really gone into the intricacies that made each place different from the next. I suppose they didn't really care for that type of stuff, though. not when it came to us.

here was much like the city, at least in some ways, but it was far quieter. 

the road was surrounded by trees far shorter and much more varied than the ones by the ones. presumably younger, having been carried there by chance or travel, not some calculated move to hide away things beyond the thick branches. and the buildings, they were shorter than the ones in the city. shorter than the ones just outside the city as well. but they were still all grouped together in a similar fashion. 

outside, a person walked a dog. I wanted so badly to jump out of the car just to pet it, but I knew I couldn't. too dangerous, too much attention. instead I just watched the dog happily prance along, wishing I could carry that sort of unfettered bliss.

I wondered, maybe frank had a dog at his home, silently hoping that he did indeed. I didn't bother asking, though. it seemed somewhat pointless, with all the other things going on at the moment. he'd surely find out anyway.

it seemed they probably didn't anyway. I knew not to get my hopes too far up, to not let them sail away. there was a distinct lack of stray dog hairs littering any part of the car, like I knew dog hair had the habit of doing each place it came in contact with. he probably didn't have a dog.

but we were still out of that place. and we still had each other. that was enough.

we drove on for a while. it wasn't that long, but I passed the time looking out the window and silently noting the things that seemed distantly familiar, and appreciating the things which I hadn't seen in person for so long. 

everything felt so similar and so different. all at once, and in all it's overwhelming nature. 

it left a feeling somewhat close to the effect of the pills: it was like there were two pieces of me, one which was in equal amounts of awe and terror of this world, and the other which felt nothing as the world washed over my head.

I wondered for a moment, if it was the effects of the pills. even though it had been some time, and even though I had _felt_ the effects wear off, I still considered it. but I let it go. 

I just sat and watched out the window, until we pulled into somewhere. frank's home, I presumed.

I thought to myself how odd his house looked, nothing like the houses we had passed by on our way here. resembling more of a red-brick school building, only far smaller. perhaps it was a small condominium, I thought.

there were a few cars parked outside in a parking lot much smaller than the one by the docks. the pavement was cracked and crumbling in some places, but the car seemed to be barely phased by the deterioration. 

frank whispered something to his mother, speaking in harsh quiet breaths. it resembled yelling, only inaudible, at least to those out of earshot. like me. 

his mom started to get out of the car, parking and turning off the car's engine before standing up and out of her seat. frank huffed and shoved his hands into the inner corners of his elbows, not bothering to budge. but I followed his mother, unlatching the car door to exit, figuring frank would eventually follow.

but he didn't. instead, he interrupted me before I could even make an exit.

"g, stop!" he yelled, trying and failing to stretch his hand far enough to grab my shirt.

"what?" I responded, matching his high volume. 

the word tumbled out, boiling, leaving my tongue feeling burned. but something about it felt fitting. almost relieving. like the line that divided me from me had been smashed to pieces for the moment. I wanted to be safe again, if we ever really were.

he flinched back at the question. something which he hadn't done when he and his mother had exchanged those harsh whispers. a pained ghost of a look in his eyes almost made me want to pull the word back into my mouth, but I was too happy to have the division gone to really bother with regret. 

"it's just, we're not home. _this isn't home_." he repeated, tone strangely cautious. "this is a fucking police station."

"oh." was all I could say, just above a murmer. 

I didn't know how else to respond, how really anyone would respond. this probably wasn't normal circumstance in the first place, and it wasn't like we'd learned anything about post-escaping formalities inside of the the facility. 

"mom, please, we can't go." frank said. "ma, c'mon. we _can't_."

a few minutes passed as they exchanged looks, as if they were silently talking. I wondered to some degree if they were, because he seemed to do a good job at convincing her.

she climbed back into the driver's seat, sitting down with a huff similar to the one frank let out when she had gotten out of the car. she placed her head in her hands, resting slightly on the steering wheel with a look of defeat. frank kept quietly repeating 'I'm sorry', but she said nothing. 

I didn't get it.

I looked at my tattered shoes, not knowing what to do with myself once again. they were pristine at the beginning of the day, blindingly white foldless canvas sewed at uniform seams. now they were covered in grass stains and mud, torn in seven places. some of the tears had begun to fray, collecting even more dirt and grime. 

ruined, but strangely more beautiful than they'd ever been.

the car lurched backward as I occupied myself with the most minuscule of realizations. I looked back out the window to see that we were leaving the station.

I felt a dread, one I had successfully ignored until now. it began to leave my body, like some silent ghost made of soot. we began moving forward again, and the station began to disappear from view. 

I looked out the back window, watching the station become smaller and smaller. an unsettling feeling wash over me. not quite the silent dread that had filled me just moments ago. i

it was something being dug up, something that was intended to remain buried. or more accurately, something _crawling_ out of that grave. something that _should_ be dead but somehow, against fate, had refused to die. 

it resurfaced, the scene. the same one laid out in front of my eyes, but some time ago. some years ago.

I couldn't remember why I was there. I was much shorter than, the scene feeling much bigger. myself much smaller, needing to kneel on the seat to see out the back window to watch out the rear window. 

the car was different then: the feeling was cloth rather than leather beneath my knees. the window much smaller, much more dirt and pollen-stained. spring. still, the air smelled of stale cigarettes. 

I could feel someone beside me. 001, younger than I'd ever remembered him. a female voice was yelling something at me in the background, but I wasn't paying attention. she sounded different than when frank's mom had spoken in harsh whispers before, even though there was still that distraught tone mixing with the words. 

had 001 and I escaped before? did the female voice belong to one of _them_? how could we have pulled it off, at such a young age? why couldn't I remember it all until _now_?

_why couldn't I remember it all?_

it fucking infuriated me, that i couldn't. 

it brought about a new sinking feeling. even though I'd remembered _something_. 

if they had found us then, what was stopping _them_ from finding us now? the urge to blurt out all my thoughts and questions was overwhelming, but I couldn't. I bit my tongue so hard it bled, to keep the words from jumping out. 

I didn't trust frank's mom enough any more. not after she'd brought us to the station.

the trees and houses passed by us. I tried to forget my worries for the moment, to be happy that we were out again. 

maybe that memory was a dream. maybe it was a story I had made up, back when 001 and I would make stories up; pretend that we were living in a world separate from the facility. 

maybe we had a decent chance that _they_ wouldn't find us. maybe everything would be okay. 

the plastic hope melted into my brain, like this was another fiction I had made for myself: a lie that everything would be okay.

but as long as I could pretend, keep the lie alive, it was okay. and for the remainder of the drive, there was nothing to lose to the fantasy of security, as long as I could drag myself out of it again when time came. when it would all come crashing down, as I knew it would have to.

just not yet.


	11. resurrection, or a recovery of someone once known

frank's home was nice. comfortable. warm.

it was much more colorful than anywhere I could remember being, even in the distant deja-vu-type parts of my memory.

the warm-tones lights contrasted the cold florescents which flooded The Institution's halls. the floors weren't grey and tiled, instead a pale wood, even having a colorful carpet off to one side of the space.

and the walls, they were a different sort of white. like the lights, they were warmer. sunlight bounded off of them, filling the space with a sort of invitation.

a dark green couch sat opposite a television surrounded by full shelves, anchoring the carpet to the floor. each place felt occupied perfectly. no eerie vacancies. no cold, surgical, bullshit.

even the papers, sat atop a table, remained anything but cold. folded into thirds, warmed by the tone of sunshine, messily stacked upon others.

but I remembered somewhere else. somewhere far off. I remembered the walls, of some distant place, like this but different, being a shade of dark orange. I wondered where it was. when I had been there. but it seemed those deja vu type memories were bubbling up far more often now.

frank clutched my hand tight. he was home, after so long.

I did just the same, held his just as tight, turning both our knuckles pale as ghosts. though I doubted that we had the same reason.

though I wasn't looking at him, I could still hear the sniffling beside me. the moment had a somber tinge, but it was still sweet to the core.

he didn't talk and I didn't talk. as if we had some sort of agreement in the silence. until we could be certain we were alone.

"your bedroom is still where it was, as it was, I haven't touched anything." his mother said, her tone hushed and somber.

and almost like she'd failed in some life-changing circumstance. even though none of this was her fault, this was _their_ fucking fault.

"well," she continued, "I haven't _changed_ anything. couldn't bring myself to. I'll step out for a bit, go get you boys some clothes and stuff. I'll call your father over, to keep a watch on you two."

she cleared her throat. like something was missing, a symptom of having said too much the wrong way. I knew the feeling all too well. even if I didn't know her reasons.

a few moments of still silence passed.

"okay." frank said quietly. but normally. "just, use cash, please. the place we escaped from, they might track you. purchases like that might tip 'em off. be safe."

he smiled and waved good-bye, but didn't leave room for a word back before he took my hand and fled. or perhaps that's too dramatic, but that's how it had cemented itself in my memory, as he led me up the staircase.

the upstairs was different. carpet covered. pale orange walls. white-painted doors.

we made our way through the third, frank's old room. even though there was so much stuff crammed into the space, the room was tidy. various small objects stood displayed atop a shelf of books and drawers.

the space was probably twice the size of the rooms back at The Institution, but it felt infinitely more cozy. as if the walls were closing in to embrace whoever walked into the space.

frank closed the door behind us and just _collapsed_. he clung to me, and I clung to him, though in a different fashion. just hugged him close, as he sniffled into that once-pristine shirt.

it was strange, to see him like this. that same person who had been so outrageously obnoxious inside The Institution, now broken to a million pieces that we were out of there.

and yet, he seemed to be happier than ever. it should've been paradoxical, but it felt genuine.

he continued to sob as I comforted him for a few minutes. but after those few minutes had passed, he quickly dried his eyes and wiped his nose with a laugh. and he looked as if it had never happened.

"sorry." he said, "it's just a lot, being home."

"yeah." I agreed, even though I didn't know the feeling.

or maybe I did, those memories that kept resurfacing were really sending my head for a loop. reminding me of home, or maybe home, but _something_. still, now wasn't the time. even though I wasn't all that familiar with proper social practices, I knew that.

so I continued to hold back. I tried to. but frank saw through my sealed lips.

"I can see you want to say something." frank said. and he did know. at least he was convinced of it, and he was entirely right.

"I remembered something." I admitted.

I started to smile at the revelation, but I was cut off by frank knocking the wind out of me with a tackle of a hug.

"what the hell, g?", he asked with that smile," _when_? why didn't you say anything?"

he seemed like that same old frank from back at The Institution, with a little less inhibition, for he no longer needed it. his infectious smile filled the room to the brim with that everything's-okay-'cause-we're-invincible feeling.

"back at the station." I said, beaming with delight. I explained the memory to him, the smile never fading from my face despite the bittersweet flavor of the actual memory. _remembering_ was so fucking sweet, and this moment was so fucking sweet, nothing could dull it.

"that's so _cool_!," he exclaimed, "holy shit, that's from before The Institution! that was probably your mom. we could find your family, your fucking _brother_! man, what the hell did you _do_? why were you _there_ as a kid?"

he asked with the fervor of childlike wonder. spouting off words like a fountain, bubbling and giggling and jumping up off the floor like he were intoxicated. we _were_ intoxicated, by the whole experience.

"how the hell did you remember?" he asked as he pulled me from the floor. "I was never sure if those memories were retrievable, that I was just some weird fucking anomaly, but _fuck_ , you're living fuckin' _proof_!"

he was some weird fucking anomaly, but it was still proof. that all wasn't said and done the moment you downed those pills. that the effects would wear off, though if it was from time or from never being on them for extended periods of time, I knew not. it didn't matter. it was hope.

"I don't know I remembered," I admitted, "but I'm fucking thrilled about it. you know, it's like you said. maybe we can live a long and normal life outside of that fucking place. the fucking institution. maybe it'll help me save 001, and whoever he was before _them_ , we could all have a grand fucking life out _here_."

I smiled at the thoughts I kept trapped in my head as well. me and 001 could be remembered as more than numbers. we could have people searching for the two of us, our family. we could have rooms kept like a time capsules back at the place we called home.

"you know maybe," I thought, " maybe it's cause I didn't take the pills. maybe that's why I can remember. you know, those giant ones they gave for the first few weeks. I stopped taking them after a few times. three, I think. defiance or whatever. maybe that's why I _did_ forget it, and how I'm still able to remember, when things are getting all stirred up again."

"that makes sense, you know." he said, "I never thought of it, but I never took those pills, you know. 've always had trouble swallowing any medicine; my parents used to crush my medicine in chocolate ice cream when I was a kid, otherwise I'd just gag it the fuck up."

"I mean," he stumbled, all flustered. I found it a bit funny because I didn't get it, "not that I have that problem _anymore._ but by that time they'd stopped that initial round of pills and moved on to those numbing shits."

he sat down on the bed with a degree of dramatics, like there was some gravity to it. the cover puffed up and released a small cloud of dust into the air in response. 

I sat down beside him, and the cover did the exact same thing all over again.

"funny," frank said, "I refused to take those motherfuckers for the longest time. never got rid of them, though. I fucking _stockpiled_ those fuckers. you know, back when they gave us a maximum of three water bottles, those opaque silver ones? I kept a supply in one of them."

he laughed a grave sort of laugh that scared me. but it didn't. it had a sense of nothing about what he'd say would change anything. he was just giving me a piece of him, some anecdote, like normal people do. or as I'd heard.

"and when time came around that they banned the opaque bottles," he continued, "when they switched 'em out for the clear ones," he laughed like he'd figured _them_ out, "I lied. said I lost mine. they bought it, too. probably though it wasn't too harmful, even if I was lying. besides, they always took me for a bit of an idiot. funny, cause _they_ were the fuckin' idiots."

he smiled, but then he shifted a little. mouth morphing into a small frown as he leaned against his old light-stained pillow with another puff of dust.

"you know," he said all dramatically, "by the time I was twelve or so, _they_ stopped sending morning pills to the rooms. or at least to me. and I got away with stuffing it up my sleeve for a while, but one day I got caught. I think they put me on intravenous for that."

his face twisted a bit. like there was some gravity his voice refused to hint at. still he laughed, even if it was a bit of a grim laugh.

"it made me forget a bit. just for a bit, you know?" he said, "thing was, remembering a world you can't return to, or didn't think you could probably ever see again, it's really more of a trap than a thing to cling to after a certain point. unless you find that hope again. but it really ebbs and flows."

I sat in silence, letting let the story wash over me. he seemed to want to come off as jovial, but I could tell there was some catch, some little tell, that this wasn't a purely humorous story. but there was something so strangely intimate about knowing this, like he was entrusting me with some other side of him that wasn't so carefree and hopeful.

"so, you know," he said with another grim chuckle, "when they had me on the numbing drugs, it helped with that. and while I still wanted to remember and be hopeful and all that shit, I didn't want to get hurt from falling off those hopes. for the year after that, I was taking way too many of those pills every day. the ones they gave me and all the ones I'd stashed. until I ran out, and completely crashed."

he paused. there was no grim chuckle. not even a smile. his face was almost a frown, but it was really just vacant, save for the twitch in the corner of his mouth that threatened to give something more away. he didn't. he just moved on.

"then I refused to take the pills again because I didn't want that to happen." he said. then he smiled again, grimly, but still. "thank fuck I'm a stubborn asshole, cause the crash lasted probably a whole fucking _month._ pure hell. shittier than the state I was in _before_ it all began. that's when they started needing to transfer me, I think I got transferred a total of twelve times.

"you know," he said, "it's scary just how many people work there, and just how many kids are trapped there." he said, "all of them all vacant-eyed from those fucking pills. how'd you get around taking the pills anyway?"

"crushed them." I said plainly. "spat them out in milk glasses."

I wanted to comfort him or _something_ but I didn't know what to do. but he seemed to get it. of course he did.

we talked on for a bit longer. it was mostly him, because he was the one who actually remembered shit from outside that place, and there was a silent sort of agreement that we'd had our dose of tragedy for the moment.

he talked about his friends, at least the ones he remembered, and how he wanted to call them but he couldn't take that risk yet. he said he was worried that one of them may be involved with The Institution, or that The Institution would have them on watch. he also said he remembered two of them disappearing after some freakout some years back. but he couldn't remember their names, just that two of them were cousins or something.

after some time, his mother returned home. we clambered down the staircase to meet her at the bottom of the steps. she seemed slightly out of it, having a diluted version of the look that met me when I'd looked too directly into the sunlight.

"hi, I got you some stuff." she said, tone somehow bitter and warm at the same time.

I could feel another presence in the room. I looked over to see a man much taller than frank, presumably his father, hunched over a laptop screen. his hair was neatly cut, graying in some even patches along the sides of his forehead, with the rest of it the same dark brown as frank's.

there was a clear-cut triangle of tension between the three, but his father smiled and waved at frank. he seemed to not know what to do with himself, much like myself. we both had frank to pretend to fit like puzzle pieces in the scenery, but both of us seemed out of place.

"hey, kid." he said with a degree of timidity.

his voice sounded completely unlike frank's, far smoother and deeper. his greeting was in stark contrast with his mother's, but his face carried much of the same emotions.

frank left me alone at the foot of the stairs to go say hello to his father. he knew what to do, what he wanted to do, to hug and talk to his father again after all these years. I didn't, so I resigned myself to glancing around the room. his mother had also known what to do, having to leave the room to finish up some other tasks. I couldn't help but stare at the windows. They had been drawn, but I still had the feeling that someone was watching me.

it was accompanied by a dreaded feeling, of being trapped, of fearing that fate we had just left. it lingered, unwelcome though I knew it was important. it lingered until I turned around again, only to see that it had been the two of them; speaking and looking toward me before looking back at each other again.

frank's father waved at me with short and abrupt gesture.

"hi, um, g?" he said, "I'm frank. you can call me whatever, though. frank's friends used to go with mister iero or just frank's dad, less confusing than two franks."

he laughed a laugh which sounded much like frank's grim laugh, but it lacked the bitterness that made frank's genuinely grim. he turned back to frank, when I didn't know much how to respond. and I was quite relieved by it, to have a bit of a break from the calamity of everything that had happened that day.

I just watched cautiously out the window, out the cracks in the curtains, until his father's phone rang and he announced that had to leave. work call, he explained it as. I didn't quite get it beyond that it was something to do with his job. it didn't change much, though, and exactly what it was didn't interest me as much as whatever was in those bags: the things that would let us leave the shadows.

frank hugged his father goodbye, I settled for a simple wave and an awkward exchange, and frank and I took the bags and went upstairs.

"he had to go back to work," he explained as we walked back up to his room. "I asked mom to tell him about the situation. she told him and all, but I still get the feeling neither of them believe us still."

he dumped out the contents of the bags out onto his bed. there was a variety of things; most of them clothes and shoes, but a smaller bag contained a wide array of things. hair dye and deodorant and shit.

frank and I picked some clothes out of the pile, but they weren't really all that different. just jeans, t-shirts, and sweatshirts; all of them slightly worn-out. but they were all nicer than any other piece of clothing I'd owned, as far as I could remember.

we turned our backs to each other and changed into the new clothes. the jeans and sweatshirt felt heavy yet familiar on my frame, like a most comfortable blanket. it warmed me, and I smiled without even second-guessing the reaction before I let it fall across my face.

I found it so strange how quick everything had turned back to normal. but then again, in the world outside, we were probably the anomaly to end all anomalies.

"you know, dinner will probably be soon." frank said. "I don't know where you want to sleep, the bed or a blanket bed." he paused to chuckle lightly. "if you want to take the bed, I can take the floor if you don't wanna share. I don't mind either way."

"no, it's okay." I responded, smiling at the thought of a blanket bed.

the concept sounded distantly familiar, though in a more tent-like form. but the memory was so distant that I couldn't help but wonder if it was something from a movie I'd seen, and not a real memory. as appealing as the memory was, I knew sleeping alone would be a bad idea. this place was unfamiliar, yes. but this place was also a place of unknowns, and unpredictability, as far as our safety went.

"I don't think I could sleep alone," I admitted, "if I go to sleep, if I _wake_ alone, there's a high probability that I'll freak the fuck out."

besides, I liked the idea of not sleeping alone, of having frank there even if neither of us were awake. to share those last and first moments at the closing and opening of the days.

"okay," frank said, "then in the meanwhile, you know, just do whatever."

he smiled again. I couldn't tell if it was supposed to be welcoming or comforting or if it was just because he remembered he was in his own room again.

"there's some pencils and shit in the desk." he said, "you know, if you wanna draw or write or whatever. at least, they were there when I was last here, at least. I'm probably gonna go say hi to my mom, again."

he smiled again, a quick sort of smile, and left the room. I took him up on his offer, and went in search for the pencils and maybe paints, though it had been a very long time since I'd used or even seen paints.

I started to rifle through the desk drawer, where he'd left them last. sure enough, beneath a messy stack of papers, I unearthed a couple pencils. then I started looking for the paints, and they weren't too hard to find either. third drawer up, in the part of his desk which was really more a stack of drawers than a desk, though it did act as a leg as well.

I took hold of the paints, but then it was there again. that deja vu. at least that's all it was at first. but it soon shifted from deja vu to a memory. something surrounding paints. it was muddy at first, but it seemed the longer I held that case of paints, the more I remembered.

I was turning some age. there was a celebration; this was a party. a few people surrounded me, quite close. 001 was among them. my _mother and father_ were among them. I knew it was them, even though their faces had been muddled from time. just like my grandparents, who stood close, beside them.

I stood, a fire-adorned cake laid out on a table ahead of me. beside it lay a set of watercolors, similar to the ones which I held now, only newer, more pristine. everyone were singing a song, a happy-birthday song.

 _"happy birthday ger-a-ard."_ , the chorus sang. 

sounded like the fizzling of the fuse. until the great bang. where the realization knocked the air straight from my lungs.

I was no longer a mere number.

the tin of paints dropped to the floor. the sound of metal hitting a leg filling the silent space. then of the hitting chair then of making its final landing on the carpet.

I stared out into the air. into nothing. watching the dust float by and collect on the film of my eyes.

then there was the clamber of hurried feet against wood and carpet.

then I was knocked from my suspended state. shaken out of it. frank; like frank was trying to wake me up from a sleepwalking spell.

"g, are you okay?" frank asked hurriedly. he had this look of paralyzing fear in his eyes. "shit. g? please tell me you're alright. what happened?"

he left no room for answers as the questions came rolling in, as I silently stared in his direction with dried out eyes. he left no room until I blinked again, and my brain connected itself to its shell once again to grab hold of my tongue and my eyelids.

"yeah," i said. "yeah, i'm okay. swear. I just; I think I remembered my _name_."

"g!" he said, all ecstatic. "holy shit, that's fucking _great_! maybe we can find your _family_! What is it?" 

his eyes so were wide and full of hope they were practically spilling over. it broke my heart into pieces because I knew, odds were, my name alone wouldn't be enough lead me to my past. it certainly didn't promise a family, because half of the name remained missing. that is, if I even _had_ a family like Frank did.

though it seemed I did, at least based on the memory. but there was some feeling, something in the back of my head, that made it seem like no one was looking for me. that they didn't really quite care, in the same way frank's parents did.

"gerard." I said, "my name's gerard."

something tucked away, back in the crevices of my mind, made me feel all but forgotten to this world. maybe it was because _I_ had forgotten everything in this world. but maybe it wasn't. and neither theory helped to dissolve the sinking feeling in my chest.

frank must've seen it too, even if he tried not to show it. tried to put on a cheery face in hopes my head would follow his face's suit.

"that's great!" frank repeated enthusiastically, but it was falser this time: the cracks were starting to show. 

I could hear those notes of failing hopes in his voice. I knew he would recover in time. we were, after all, out of The Institution. it didn't mean the feeling didn't seep into the cracks in my own soul.

but frank moved on to another bag, feigning that same optimism. he still had it, the real shit, just not as much as before. I just wished he didn't feel he had to layer on that plastic extra layer. still, I said nothing about it. 

frank dug around the bag for a while, the one that had an array of things in it. the crinkling of the plastic was so loud in my ears, making me miss that sound of the ipod. I considered asking for it, wanting to cover up the horrid sharp noise with something wonderfully sharp, but he stopped before I needed to, four boxes in his hands.

"catch." he said, throwing one of the boxes in my direction. 

I failed to catch it. funny considering all the hours of practice I'd had.

"we've gotta change our looks completely, the clothes alone won't be enough." frank said with a warm but subdued smile. "you can have the black dye, my hair's too dark a brown for it to look much different with black dye, and I'll go red."

he turned to look out the window. 

"I've always wanted to dye my hair red or something." he said with a little laugh.

I couldn't imagine him with red hair myself. or myself with black hair.

but the concept intrigued me. and I said nothing of it, just followed his gaze to the barely open blinds. between the slats, outside, stood an sky painted in orange and pink. looked like something out of the pictures I'd seen, only more infinitely more vibrant. 

it felt surreal, like the ocean. only less terrible. that the sky could be so full of color, and that those colors could shift so gracefully.

"but that can wait 'til tomorrow." frank said, breaking gerard from the impending trance, "dinner's supposed to be done in ten minutes, well, ten minutes ago. then we can watch a movie and sleep. I should still have some good ones stashed away somewhere." 

"cool." I said. it had been ages since I'd last seen a real movie.

he walked over to the door, to dinner, and I followed. we hovered at the threshold for some time, inches from each other.

"gerard, that's a hot name." he said, with a nervous laugh, and as did I. something about it was laced with implication, something about it that was quite intoxicating. 

but we exchanged a quick and simple kiss, and nothing more, before we abandoned the space for dinner.

and the dinner, the food was delicious. I'd forgotten, still practically forgotten, how _good_ food could taste. could smell. we all talked over dinner, a simple but nice conversation. and it all felt so strangely normal, so strangely lovely.

after dinner, we watched a film by the name 'Sweeney Todd'. it was different than anything I'd even watched, through deja vu or through The Institution. it was so captivating, and yet we never finished it. for we were too tired from the day. and we fell fast asleep, huddled together under the pounds of soft blankets.

it was the best I'd ever slept.

the best, until I woke up.

home. flashed in front of my eyes for a second before the confusion set in: I didn't know where I was; this wasn't home. before the realization set in: I didn't know where home was; this was a new home.


End file.
